


The House Guest

by B_does_the_write_thing



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: AU, Character Death, Concerned Neighbor Archie, Demon!Rumple, F/M, Halfbreed!Neal, Pretty Much Everyone is In This One, Prompt Verse, Relationship Tags In Order of Amount Of Content, Slow Burn, Witch!Lacey, Working Title: Don't Summon Demons for Fun Kids
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-16
Updated: 2017-01-13
Packaged: 2018-03-23 07:02:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 75
Words: 197,013
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3758899
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/B_does_the_write_thing/pseuds/B_does_the_write_thing
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Belle "Lacey" French accidentally summons the "Dark One", she finds herself with an unwanted roommate. Life with a demon isn't all it's cracked up to be and things spiral out of control.  Secrets about her heritage, her town, and her friends come to light as she struggles to find where she belongs.  </p><p>- Nominated for Best Series and Best Lacey in the 2016 T.E.A's-<br/>-Nominated for Best Series in the 2017 T.E.A's-<br/>-Winner of Best Lacey in the 2017 T.E.A's-</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: Belle/Lacey accidentally summons the Dark One-

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Belle/Lacey accidentally summons the Dark One
> 
> Okay, so let me take this opportunity to welcome you to The House Guest. Now, that it's finished, you may have stumbled upon it in the completed tag, saw it and said mmm, I'll give it a shot.
> 
> First of all, thanks for trying it. 
> 
> Second of all, this is a Lacey story, but my Lacey is not canon Lacey. She's a mix of Belle/Lacey in all the best and worsts ways of both of them. She's my answer to "We are Both" and I throughly hope you give her a shot because I love her flaws and all dearly.
> 
> Third of all, if you enjoy any chapter, please leave a little review. Now that this story is over, I miss it dreadfully. So, seeing people still discovering it, enjoying it, makes my heart happy. If you love a chapter, please leave a <3, if it's intense you can leave a !, if it's funny :) and so forth and so forth. 
> 
> Last of all, if you while reading, find a plot hole, or a loose end, let me know! I'll give you a cookie, credit and write something to fix it. 
> 
> Okay, enough talk (hey it's a preface!) and I hope you enjoy the story.

_April 16, 2015_

Storybrooke was a small town in many ways. Despite the population being slightly over seven thousand strong, everyone knew their neighbor, attended local events and voted in every election. There was a Mayor, a Sheriff, and a firehouse though there hadn't been a crime reported more urgent than the occasional fender bender in recent memory. 

Though that might change after tonight. 

It was a balmily night for April in Maine, the air quiet and still with the usual scent of the sea coming in off the beaches. In the back alley outside the Rabbit Hole, two shadowy figures could be seen under the bright neon light. From the street, it looked like a simple lover's tryst until a sudden yelp of pain cut the usually quiet night of Storybrooke like a knife. 

"You bitch!" Keith Nottingham clutched at his forehead where a trick of blood oozed down his cheek through his fingers. He had staggered backwards under the impact and as his shadow retreated, the blue lights of the Rabbit Hole Bar and Grill shone down on the weapon. 

It was a stiletto. 

A few feet away from where the shoe lay, a woman stood. Small and petite, she was trembling from head to foot but her own shadow cast behind her twice her size and seeming to swell as if angered into rising from the pavement to take justice into it's own hands. There was the smell of metal in the air, and the woman wiped her own bleeding mouth with the back of her hand. Her lip had been burst open and there were bruises around her neck, already purpling and swelling. Her blouse was torn open, stained with blood and flapping in the wind that began to pick up. 

"I said," the slight woman growled, " to get your goddamn hands off me, Keith."

Keith raised a hand at her but the woman was quick to hold up her other show, and he thought better of it. He backed away towards the relative safety of the bar's back door. "Fuck you, Lacey. You can't handle a real man."

This earned him a ragged laugh. “A real man? You would't know a real man if one knocked you into next Tuesday, you jackass.” Lacey tried to tug her shirt back into place but it was past salvaging. Not that she cared, she planned to burn it as soon as she got home anyways. "Get away from me before I start yelling for the police."

It was an empty threat and they both knew it. The local sheriff's office was severely understaffed as only Sheriff Humbert himself worked there full time. Storybrooke was a sleepily little town as Mayor Mills was fond of reminding voters, so there was no need for so much as a local deputy. 

Thankfully, Keith didn't seem too interested in continuing. "Goddamn crazy person,” Keith muttered before he disappeared back into the Rabbit Hole.

For a full minute, Lacey didn't relax from her defensive position but when her adrenaline rush disappeared as quickly as it had come, she collapsed in on herself. She reached gingerly for her neck and winced as a sharp pain flared in her head though that could have been the four shots of Patron. She staggered over to where her shoe lay. The tip of it was coated in blood, it shone dully in the bar's neon sign. Lacey wiped it off using what was left of her blouse before slipping it back on. The shirt she would burn but the shoes she would, bloodstain and all.

Another evening in good ole Storybrooke.

She had always toed the line with Keith, despite knowing his proclivity for being a real jackass. After all he was always good for a drink and she was always up for a bit of fun. Everyone knew Racy Lacey was up for anything...but not like that.

She shivered. There had been real cruelty in his eyes as he had gripped her neck, squeezing the life out of her as she struggled between his grip and the cold brick wall at her back. "Trust me," he had gloated, stroking her side as he continued to cut off her air. He had proceeded to tear her shirt off her. All humanity erased from his face as he took what he wanted.

That's when she had panicked, determined not to die in some back alley at the hands of a two bit pool shark. So, she had kneed him in the balls. He had backhanded her in response, busting her lip and knocking her sideways to the ground. She wasn't sure how exactly she had gotten away from him. One minute he had been standing over her, the next she had been standing a few feet away, but still too close for comfort. 

Lacey stopped short of her apartment, leaning over into Archie's bushes, and being violently sick. Straightening, she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand before stumbling on her way. She would have to apologize in the morning. Archie's dog, Pongo, was bound to find it on their morning walk and Archie would know who was responsible.

Then, he’d want to “talk”.

Again.

Lacey let herself into her small studio apartment on auto pilot. Ignoring the disaster zone, she threw herself full dressed down on the bed. Trying to roll to her side, she was unable, stuck in place. Panicking for a moment, just a moment, she belatedly remembered her blood soaked blouse. In a frenzy of movement, she tore it from herself until it was a ball of silk in her lap. She didn’t even realize she was crying until her tears smeared the still fresh blood all over the once white pristine silk shirt.

She stared at it, following the trail of the pink mix before flinging it from her into the fireplace. Reaching blindly for her lighter, she inadvertently knocked over the book laying on the bed. She paid no it no mind, just some weird library book she had gotten last week, she hadn't even bothered to open it since then and had forgotten about it entirely. It was close to the fireplace but still far enough away not to catch flame. Leaving it where lay, Lacey lit her ruined shirt on fire and pushed the flume open as the flames caught.

She knelt on the mattress, bloody and topless with her skirt hiked up to her thighs. Her heels had tracked dirt and grime and who knew what else into her bed but she didn't care. She just knelt there as the shirt burned. A piece of the collar,  bright red with blood and damp with tears, fluttered up from the flames and ash and floated out of the mantle. It landed atop of the open library book before fizzling out with a hiss.

That was disappointing. Would it have been so bad to catch fire too? Have her entire flat and her go up with it? The other studios in the building were empty- no one else was crazy enough to live in this slum beside her. She flopped back on the bed, closing her eyes against the increasingly spinning room. It was getting hotter and hotter in here – not surprising considering there was no air conditioner and the fact that she had a full fire roaring despite the unseasonably warm evening.

So, of course, Lacey figured she was hallucinating when the high-pitched cackle broke the usual silence of her flat.

“Well, well, what do we have here? Who dares and call upon the Dark One with blood, tears and ash. Who has need of my awesome powers?“

Lacey  sat up to peer in blurry confusion at the imaginary person standing before her in her sordid excuse for a bedroom.

A creature – scaled in gold and green- wearing the leather hides of other animals stood before her, arms raised in an imposing gesture as he stared back down at her in open confusion. Lacey quirked an eyebrow at him, before collapsing backwards on the bed. “Beat it, Dark One,” she grumbled, flipping over to bury her face in the pillow. She smeared make up all over it but she didn’t care at the moment. Between the blood and the dirt from her heels, she might as well burn these sheets next.

“But I-“ came the disgruntled voice of her drunken imagination. “I can’t until I have granted you your deepest desire.”

“Fine. Listen closely. Go away,” Lacey grumbled in her pillow. She then proceeded to drown out the voice by humming off tune.

With a cracking noise, the fire place went out in a whoosh. Lacey peeked an eye open to find a bottle of water and a bottle of Advil on the wine crates that served as a sad excuse for a nightstand. She flipped back over to look at the creature with an appraising eye. “You’re real then?” she said, sitting upright.

The creature in question looked down at her in disgust. His eyes flicked down at her bare chest before looking sharply back up at her with narrowed eyes.  “You summoned me,” he hissed, gesturing with a flourish of his wrist. “You paid the price of blood, tears and ash.“

“So... now I get a wish?” Lacey guessed. She missed his facial contortion, too busy admiring in the tight leather pants the creature had squeezed himself into. She had been looking for a pair just like those-

Snapping his fingers to get her attention away from his crotch, he muttered, “A deal has been struck. I am here simply to fulfill my end of the bargain.”

“So, you can’t leave until then?” 

His brow furrowed sharply as he looked down at her in suspicion. His eyes lingered on her bruised lip. The bleeding had clotted but Lacey worried it back open with her teeth. “You’ve been injured,” he noticed. Lacey rolled her eyes as she leaned over to grab the medicine and water he had conjured.

“Great observation, Sherlock,” she replied. She sighed in relief. The cool water felt wonderful against her bruised lip. When she opened her eye, the creature was staring pointedly at the book open upon the floor.

"Where did you get that?" it drawled. 

“From the library," Lacey said as she helped herself to the advil.

"You got that," it once again pointed at the book, "at the library?"

Lacey scooped it off the floor between them. "Is that what summoned you?" 

“It would seem so,” he grumbled, glaring at the book as if it had personally offended him.

Lacey heaved herself off the bed. and wobbled slightly. The creature caught her deftly. For a moment, they stared blankly at each other before it released her as if if had been burned. “Well,” she said with a sigh, heading towards the kitchen. “Might as well make yourself useful. Do you cook?”

"I am a demon from the Dark Realm," it hissed as it trailed behind her. "I don't cook. I order in."

Neither of them knew it but they were about to change each other in ways they couldn’t imagine.

It was going to be quite a ride.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Sequel to the one where Lacey summons the Dark One in Storybrooke”

_May 20th, 2015_

As an only child, Lacey had never learned how to share her personal space. Perhaps that’s why she had chosen to live in a run down studio apartment that should have been condemned instead of leased. She would rather have cheap rent for a cramped space then sharing a nicer apartment with a roommate any day.

So, unsurprisingly, she wasn’t taking well to her current situation.

“I don’t understand,” Lacey grumbled as she leaned against her kitchen counter. “Why don’t you just stay wherever it is you came from?”

“Believe me,” hissed her new lodger from his perch in the dark corners by the fireplace. “I’ve tried.”

“Try harder,” Lacey warned, taking another large sip of wine.

“Oh, let’s see,” the self-titled Dark One chirped. He threw his arm up, wrist twisting grotesquely in the overhead lighting. “If a certain someone would perhaps complete the terms of the clearly explained deal...“

Lacey shook her head vehemently, holding up a hand to stop him. “Yea, no, I’m not going to sell you my soul in exchange for some kind of wish fulfillment. I told you that weeks ago.“

Hidden in the shadows cast by the fireplace, the Dark One made a rude noise of dissent. Lacey ignored it. After two weeks of him looming and moping around the apartment, disappearing and reappearing at will, she had grown tired of his 'dark and mysterious' routine.

“Foolish chit,” he complained, wrinkling his nose at her in disdain. “I have been an immortal since the dark ages of time and never once have had such a impossible-“

“Watch it, Dark One, or I’ll get the book back out. I’ve banished your ass back to kingdom come twice already. I’m not afraid to do it again,“ Lacey threatened. It was a bit of an empty threat and they both knew it. She wasn't sure how much she had been actually banishing him. Probably more just inconveniencing him slightly. 

A knock at the door silenced both of them rather effectively. His large eyes swung from the door back to her. She raised her finger to her lips to indicate silence and was rewarded with him rolling his eyes in irritation.

“Lacey?” came the hesitant voice from the other side of the too thin door. “You home?”

Lacey pursed her lips. She stood stock still in the hopes that her well-meaning but rather obtuse neighbor would give up and go away.

“I mean, I know you’re home,” the voice apologized. “I just heard you talking. Plus, I saw you in the window a minute ago- not that I was looking in, I just noticed you were home.” A low whining emitted from the other side of the door. "Pongo, hush!”

Lacey knew a lost cause when she heard one. With a last look over her shoulder at her guest, an arched eyebrow to indicate his continued silence in the shadows, she opened the door just a crack.

Standing in the dim, constantly flickering light of the slum's hallway, Archie Hopper was attempting to hold his overeager Dalmatian back. As soon as the dog saw Lacey, he reared up on his hind legs in greeting. Pongo whined and barked slightly, straining endearingly towards her. She crouched down in her heels, wobbling slightly on the uneven linoleum of her entrance way to scratch at the soft fur on his chest and tried to avoid being knocked over. “Come on, Pongo,” Lacey laughed, holding her wine glass out of the way of the dog's exuberant wiggling. “Play a little hard to get!”

With a shark bark of joy, Pongo nuzzled his snout into her armpit even as Archie tried his best to hold him back. “Sorry, Lace,” Archie muttered, wrinkling his face in frustration. “I didn’t realize you had company. I saw the downstair’s front door open and I just thought I’d check on you.”

“Oh yea,” Lacey stood quickly, leaning to block Archie’s view inside her apartment. “Just an old friend stopping by for a drink.” She raised the glass of red wine up to the flickering light, smiling tightly. Archie smiled tightly back, barely managing to keep his opinions to himself.

Archie, while a wonderful friend and neighbor, was also forever lecturing her on her drinking, partying and lifestyle in general. A talented therapist, he sometimes had trouble leaving his work behind. If it weren’t for his weekly habit of bringing her leftovers from his cooking forays, she would have scared him off years ago.

“Alright then,” Archie said slowly, eyes wandering over her shoulder. Lacey took a step backwards, bringing the door closed behind her slightly. “If you’re sure…”

“Course I am,” Lacey shrugged. She noticed Pongo was sniffing her closely, a low whining noise deepening in intensity. “Enjoy your walk, boys. I’ll stop by tomorrow on my way home from the store with that wine I was telling you about.“

Archie frowned down at Pongo who was now pulling slightly at the leash. The dog made a curious whimper of desperation as he attempted to push past Lacey. “Pongo...,” Archie warned, tugging the leash, but his usually well-trained dog ignored him. “Pongo, what on Earth?“

Before Lacey could close the door, the Dalmatian wrenched himself free from his owner and pushed the door open to rush into the apartment. “Pongo!” Lacey gasped, bending down for the leash just as Archie did the same. Their heads collided and both of them were doused with cheap red wine as the Dalmatian darted into the room barking madly.

“Pongo!” Archie shouted, ears reddening as his glasses slipped down his dripping nose. “Bad boy! Bad!”

But as sudden as the Dalmatian's barking fit had started, it just as abruptly ceased. With a whimper, Pongo sank to his haunches before rolling onto his back exposing his stomach. Archie hurried in after him. He bent to grab his leash all the while reciting apologies before he saw what had caught Pongo’s attention.

“Uh…Lacey?” Archie whispered, eyes glued to the scaled leather-wearing sorcerer who was clearly pleased at his new audience. The Dark One was glaring at both dog and his owner, teeth bared in a hiss and eyes narrowed to slits. Full performance mode.

With a sigh, Lacey closed the door behind her, walking to the sink to deposit her now empty wine glass. “Archie,” she said, not bothering to turn around as she started to run the water to dab ineffectively at the stains on her white blouse. “Meet the Dark One. Dark One, meet my neighbor, Dr. Archie Hooper.”

Pongo whined as Archie tried to pull him up off the floor, clearly still believing it best to remain submissive to the obvious alpha in the room.

“Pleasure,” snarled the otherworldly being, spreading his hands out wide in front of him as he crossed his calves and dipped into a small, mocking bow.

Archie's eyes were wide behind his glasses and his freckles stood starkly out from his increasingly bloodless face. He opened his mouth to speak but words failed him. He just simply blinked at her for a moment before he dropped Pongo’s leash to push his glasses up and rub frantically at his eyes.

“Doesn’t help,” Lacey said resignedly as she poured herself a new glass of wine. “He’s real. Glass of wine?”

“I wouldn’t recommend that swill, she calls wine,” the Dark One interrupted, causing Archie to swing his head back around as he backed up quickly towards Lacey. “I could whip up a good cabernet from the Mussolini era if you were so inclined?”

“Don’t take him up on it,” Lacey advised as she corked the bottle. “After a few ‘favors’, he starts in on collecting your soul and whatnot.”

“Lacey,” gulped Archie as he lowered his glasses back into place. “What’s going on here?”

“Oh,” Lacey said nonchalantly, taking a sip of the newly poured wine. “Didn’t I tell you? I got a roommate.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, quick prompt story so no beta


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lacey is getting ready for a date. The Dark One is less than thrilled

_June 1st, 2015_

“What kind of a name is The Dark One, anyway?”

“What kind of name is Lacey?”

She met the eyes of her unwanted roommate in the bathroom mirror. His golden and green-scaled skin looked sickly in the fluorescent lighting. Not that her ghostly pale skin looked much better against the yellowing tile and brown splotches…

“It’s a family name,” Lacey lied. After all, anything was better than her real name. Lifting the curling iron up from the cracked surface of the sink, Lacey pointed it at his reflection. “It could be worse. There’s some chick who works down at the elementary school named Mary Margaret.”

“Horrors,” he replied drily. The corners of Lacey’s mouth lifted in a smirk as she brought the curling iron to her damp hair. He watched for a few minutes in silence before he finally commented. “That looks positively barbaric.”

“It takes a lot of work to look like you woke up like this,” Lacey admitted, releasing the strands she had expertly curled into loose waves. With a spritz of her hair spray, she had the gratifying pleasure to hear the Dark One cough as he accidentally inhaled some of it.

“Disgusting,” he grumbled. “If you would just let me assist you? Perhaps ever having to do your hair ever again? A full time lady servant was very popular back in the day.“

“I’ve been doing this since I was fourteen, DoDo,” Lacey twisted her head to the left to better curl the strands in the back of her head. “I don’t need the magical assistance of Lizard David Bowie.“

“Now, that was a man who knew how to make a deal.”

Remembering not to shake her head as she finished gathering the last of her hair into a final twist, Lacey ignored him to concentrate on the task at hand. By the time she glanced back into the mirror, he was gone. “Thank God,” she sighed as she sprayed the last of the curls into submission. Reapplying the lipstick she had nibbled off, she reached over to unplug the curling iron. Flicking the light off, she exited into the main room of her studio apartment.

Her mattress, strewn with pillows and comforter twisted as if it had been caught in a storm, had somehow migrated closer to the fireplace. Kicking it aside, she brushed past it to the corner to her makeshift closet. A few bare pipes had with a little ingenuity become her own personal shopping rack. Her clothes hung in neat lines, color coordinated when they weren’t piled in the other corner of the room to await laundry day.

Also known as whenever Archie came over for dinner. She usually sat on the bed with a bottle of wine and watched him clean the entire place top to bottom. Finally, he would march her down to the laundry mat across from Granny’s Diner. Two milkshakes and a glass of wine later, they would collect her unmentionables while Archie blushed scarlet and then stumble back to their street.

Since her new roommate had come into the picture, Archie hadn’t come to visit since their initial meeting. Lacey shrugged out of her ropes, checking over her shoulder to make sure he was still alone.  “No peeking!” she called out, just in case he was still lurking about. 

Not that she had to worry, the Dark One for all his fire and brimstone routine couldn’t stand the sight of her 'mortal body' as he had made clear on their first meeting.

Summoning a demon that didn’t like the sins of the flesh was just her luck.

Making short work of her vast collection of skirts and dresses, Lacey finally settled on a classic little black dress with a twist. She had just managed to slip on the perfect matching shoes, black with golden swirls up the stiletto heels before she heard the sound of a bottle being uncorked behind her.

“Pinoit?” she asked hopefully, making her way to the kitchen through the shoes littering the floor.

“Merlot,” the Dark One responded, already holding out a glass to her. “I grew tired of that swill you insist is wine.”

“Oh, the poor Dark One has to deal with what I can afford, even though he doesn’t pay rent.”

“I don’t live here,” came the response. “I merely await your end of the bargain.”

“That reminds me," Lacey said. "You’ll have to find somewhere else to go because you can’t be here tonight.”

The look of affront that crossed his pointed face was almost as good as the Merlot. With a cock of his head, he assessed her. “You have a date?”

“Bingo,” Lacey pointed her recently manicured finger at him with a wink. “I plan on getting lucky tonight, so you’ll have to make like Copperfield and,” she wiggled her fingers at him, “disappear.”

He sipped at his wine as he perched on the high counter top. The dishes that had been piled there, shifted over without his even motioning at them. "Copperfield? Bah. A hack if there ever was one."

“I’m serious, DoDo,” she repeated, holding out her glass for a refill. He lazily twisted a finger and the wine bottle lifted from its spot to pour itself before it resettled on the counter. “Go bother Archie or something.”

“I had plans,” he sniffed haughtily. “Can’t you go to his place?”

Lacey gave him a look. “First of all,” she snapped. “What kind of plans does a demon have on a Saturday night?”

“That show with the satirical overtones is on tonight,” he said with a toss of his head. “It’s live.”

“Saturday Night Live is live every Saturday,” Lacey pointed out, but he ignored her.

“Beside, I like the food you refuse to share with me. I shall order some in your absence.”

“I told you no more ordering Papa Gepetto's pizza! You nearly scared the hell out of the last two delivery boys – and as Gepetto reminded me the other day, payment upon delivery means you actually pay them, not agree to spare their lives. “

“He is a cunning business man,” the Dark One nodded. “I shall look forward to our meeting.”

“Not happening,” Lacey mumbled. She had managed to convince the two boys they had a bad trip on the acid they were all so fond of but Gepetto was a different story. She had spent thirty minutes the other day lying about her new roommate who had a skin condition and severe psychiatric issues. 

“Second of all,” Lacey said over his continued protesting. “Who said anything about my date tonight being a man?”

The Dark One shrugged. “I had supposed based off your previous encounters. I did not realize you were amenable to the fairer sex.”

Lacey grinned. “I’m always amenable.” He scoffed in response. She lifted an eyebrow in silent warning. “Anything you want to say, DoDo?”

Baring his sharp and crooked teeth at her, he snapped, “I told you not to call me that infernal nickname! I am the Dark One from the depths of the blackest pits!“

“That’s what I thought,” Lacey said smugly, crossing her arms over her chest.

He just couldn’t help himself. With another long draft of his wine, he added a snide little comment. “You look like a call girl.”

Glancing down at herself, Lacey took in the high neckline of her black cotton mix dress. It hung to her curves before ending mid thigh, just long enough to appear classy and just short enough to slip upwards upon her bending.

A classic little black dress.

Until, that is, when she turned around. Completely backless until it hit the Venus dimple’s on her back, it had a golden chain that held the two shoulder straps in place before it dangled down in a long, thin line to dangle down her spine. With her perfectly winged black eyeliner and smoky eye, fake eye lashes perfectly in place thanks to the killer mascara Ruby had recommended, Lacey looked fit to kill.

Which was quite possible in the Dark One’s situation.

“I don’t care if you like it. You’re not the one I’m trying to get into bed.”

“Thank goodness.”

Lacey finished her glass of wine in a swig. Slamming it down amidst the junk on her dining table, she lifted a finger at him. “Beat it DoDo.”

A manic gleam entered his eyes as he surveyed her over the wine glass. “Perhaps I’ll see if Master Hopper would like to come over. He has the means to pay for pizza, correct?”

“You are not to be here for at least twenty four hours. Don’t make me get the book out.”

“I had it returned to the library,” he crowed, lifting his wine up at her in cheers.

“Good thing I thought to make photocopies,” Lacey countered smugly. “Don't bother looking, you’ll never find them.”

“They’re in the hidey hole in the mantle, aren’t they?”

Throwing her hands up, Lacey reached for her keys. “I’m checking that book out again first thing in the morning!”

“See you later,” called the Dark One with glee. “Bring some gelato home!”

Stomping down the stairs, Lacey thought of the numerous ways she would like to skin and debone the roommate from hell. When she finally made it to the street, she looked up to find the light in her apartment off but the glow of the television screen shone down. “Damn it,” she muttered under her breath.

She really needed to figure out how to exorcise a demon if she was ever going to have sex again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part of B gets 100 Lovelies over on Tumblr; No beta and quick drabble. 
> 
> I know prompter probably wanted Jealous DoDo but instead he get annoyed roommate DoDo. ;)


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Congrats on 100 followers! I don't have a tumblr, but if you're still taking prompts, I really love The House-Guest. I also love the relationship between Rumple and Nealfire. "The woman wanted a child, so I got one on her. Not my fault she died in the birthing." The Dark One can't understand why his son Baelfire has started hanging out with humans (without trying to corrupt them, even) and calling himself Neal. Lacey finds herself having to explain the whole "teen rebellion" thing.

_July 1st, 2015_

Few and far things actually surprised Lacey.

Violent assaults, bad acid trips, summoning a demon from the underworld- none of that had fazed her.

But this-

“Wait, you’re telling me you have a kid?”

The Dark One grumbled, scoffing with a short snap of his jagged teeth.

Ignoring his foul mood, Lacey smiled eagerly as she leaned forward on her futon. “Oh my god, you’re kidding!” She bit her lip wickedly as she saw the little vein in his forehead throb. “DoDo procreated!”

“The woman wanted a child, so I got one on her!” he hissed, ignoring her smirking face as he glowered at the muted television screen. “Not my fault she died in the birthing.”

“Ew,” Lacey said, settling back in her chair. She looked at him askance, taking in the tight leather breeches and the full spiked coat he had appeared in earlier that afternoon. He looked rather imposing, a change from his usual scaled ensembles. “I thought you didn’t like human women.”

“I don’t,” he snapped, wrinkling his nose at her in the dim lighting. “A deal was struck.”

“So, you couldn’t just...” Lacey waved her hands about her face in a poor imitation of him as she tried to find the words. “Just- make her pregnant?”

He shook his head in a way that perfectly conveyed his thoughts on her intelligence.” Magic has its rules, dearie. You cannot just create life.”

Lacey reached for her cell phone that was lighting up with a text message from Ruby." So, you knocked her up?" 

“I gave her what she wanted,” he grouched, looking positively uncomfortable. “All magic comes with a price.”

“Yea, so you keep saying,” Lacey sighed, stretching her legs out until they hit the sides of his leather encased thighs. She wiggled her toes as feeling crept back into them, ignoring his pointed glance in their direction. “I’m guessing she didn’t read the fine print?”

Silence followed for a moment. When Lacey looked back up from her text, she realized her roommate was staring absently at the television screen, not realizing it was on a static channel. “Hey,” she said, nudging him with her foot. “You’re a demon. What did she expect?”

“A son,” he replied. “She was, after all, queen to a great kingdom. With no heir, her husband would have cast her aside to a life of misery and begging. For good measure, he would have slaughtered her family as a lesson to those who did not give him what he desired.”

“So, she chose the lesser of two evils,” Lacey finished, trying not to gag at the idea of someone actually sleeping with the scaled demon. He wasn’t exactly attractive in any conventional way. Plus, his teeth were as disgusting as his clawed talons. Maybe if a girl enjoyed reptiles…

“I suppose,” he bit off, watching the fine lines of the television start to blur together.

Something in his voice made Lacey pause. A quality of almost…longing?

“Did you actually... care for her?”

“Of course not,” he responded hotly, folding his arms over his chest. The channel quickly flickered to a rerun of some eighties sitcom before turning off all together. “Rubbish entertainment. In the days of old, stories and music meant something. Not this drivel.“

“What did I tell you about complaining?”

“I shall do as I like," he growled. "Lest you forget, as Lord of the Dark Castle, I could turn you into a cockroach and trap you in the seventh hell of Hades until your soul perished and your insides evaporated.”

“Yea, you already threatened me with that last Tuesday,” Lacey reminded him. “Did you remember to order Chinese?”

“I fail to see how it is my responsibility-“

“Damn it, DoDo, if you are going to drink all my wine while I’m at work, the least you can do is order dinner!“

“I’ll remind you, hustling pool is not actual work.“

“Watch it, Lizard Breath or I’ll-“

“This is interesting,” came a new voice, causing Lacey to turn in her chair. Behind her, slumped against the now open door to the hall, stood a man in his thirties. He had the unkempt hair and scruffy beard of a hipster, with a hoodie over a t-shirt and grey jeans completing the ensemble. He seemed oddly familiar to her but she couldn’t quite place it. “I can see why you like her, Papa.”

“Papa?” Lacey asked, turning to DoDo with a wicked grin. “That’s almost better than DoDo.”

“Hey, Papa was perfectly normal in Renaissance France,” the younger man said with a shrug of his shoulders. “Beside, it bugs the hell out of him.”

“Nice,” Lacey nodded. “I’ll add it to the list.”

“Baelfire," DoDo said in genuine confusion. "What are you doing here? I thought you were in New York City?”

“It’s Neal, Papa,” came the exasperated response. Lacey quirked an eyebrow at the man, twisting so she rested her elbows on the back of the futon so she could see him more clearly.

“Baelfire? Is that French too?” she asked archly, raising her hips slightly behind her. The newcomer’s gaze didn’t rise to the bait; he simply shrugged his shoulders before turning to his father with resignation.

“Papa, do you guys have any food around here? I’m starving.”

With a snap of his fingers, the room suddenly strongly smelled of Chinese takeout. Lacey, forgetting her original reservations towards this Neal, hopped over the back of the futon and followed the heavenly aroma to the kitchen table. “You never summon food that quickly for me,” she complained, shooting an affronted look at the Dark One.

“Fresh,” Neal said appreciatively, helping himself to the carton of what appeared to be Mu Shoo Pork. Lacey picked up a carton, popping it open to find freshly steamed rice and shrimp.

“Is this from Shang’s?” Lacey asked, popping a piping hot shrimp in her mouth.

“It’s from Hong Kong,” the Dark One said blandly. “Shang uses too much chemical preservatives.”

“Nice,” Neal said, lifting a chopstick to his mouth expertly. “Still using magic instead of doing anything for yourself, I see.”

“Oh,” Lacey whistled, reaching for another carton, which smelled spicier. “Is that resentment I hear?”

“Who is this?” Neal asked, gesturing at her with his chopsticks. “She’s worse than that Cora you dated back in Florence.”

“I _knew_ you liked human women,” Lacey hooted, helping herself to some sweet and spicy chicken.

“I do not,” the demon argued as he stood. He took in Neal’s ensemble as Lacey had earlier and made the same face of disgust. “Human clothes, human name. What has become of my first born?”

“I’ve told you, Papa, humans aren’t so bad.” Neal glanced at Lacey, taking in her crop top and short skirt before mumbling,” Well, most of them.”

“Careful, kid,” Lacey warned. “I may not look like much but I’m pretty sure I can kick your hipster skinny jean ass to the curb without breaking a sweat.”

“I’m over four hundred years old,” Neal shot back. "I think I know a few things about fighting-"

“Four hundred, huh? Well, that explains the lines around your mouth.”

“Enough!” The room darkened, lights flickering as the Dark One raised his arms up menacingly. Both Neal and Lacey lowered their chop sticks, glancing at each other out of the corner of their eyes.

“She started it,” Neal grumbled, causing Lacey to gasp in indignation.

“Why are you even here?” Lacey asked, grinning smugly when Neal fell silent. “Needed Daddy’s help?”

“Nothing like that,” Neal said with a shrug. He flicked through his carton, absently picking at pieces of green. “I just heard you were back on this plane. You could have called you know.”

“I do not call,” spat DoDo. “I am the Dark One, and you are Baelfire, heir of the Dark Castle-”

“Neal! My name is Neal!“

“My son forsaking all his heritage and power to pass as a mortal!“

“It’s a new millennium, Papa," Neal grumbled. "Wake up and smell the bacon. The old way is dead. No one wants to summons demons or make deals anymore, they want a magical solution to their issues. One without effort or sacrifice.”

“Bah!”

“He’s right you know,” Lacey added, stirring her chop sticks in what she though might be garlic beef. “Hence why you’ve been here almost two months now. How many times do I have to tell you, I’m not wishing for something at the low, low price of my eternal soul.”

“A month?” Neal said with some surprise. “Geez, Papa. You haven’t stayed with someone that long since...well, Cora.“

“Who is this Cora?” Lacey asked over the Dark One’s noise of derision. She hopped up on to the counter space, uncorking a bottle of whiskey and pouring herself a glass. She lifted it towards the father and son, wagging at them. “Shot for a story?”

Neal shrugged, snagging a glass and holding it out to her. His father snarled, raising his finger to point at her accusingly. “I don't have to stand around and take this!"

“Bye,” Lacey sang at him, clapping her hand open and closed mocking. With another snarl, the Dark One disappeared in a cloud of maroon smoke.

Neal looked at her appreciatively. “Nicely done,” he said, taking a sip of the whiskey. He made a face, glancing down at the amber liquid before squinting at the bottle. “Is this even distilled?”

“Don’t know,” Lacey said with a shrug. “I swiped it from some guys mini fridge on my way out one morning. Your dad doesn’t like liquor so it’s the only way I can keep alcohol in the house these days.”

“He doesn’t like champagne, either,” Neal shared.

“That is extremely helpful,” Lacey raised her glass to chink against his in a toast. “Now, who’s this Cora chick?”

\-- 

A few hours later, Lacey was laying in the dark, flipping through her phone when a dark grumble from the shadows caught her attention.

“Neal left,” she told him. “He said to tell you 'later’.”

“I hope you enjoyed yourself.”

The pressure on the futon increased as he settled back upon it. He had changed into a simple red robe, gold glittering throughout the rich fabric. “Don’t get too comfortable," he warned. "As soon as you make your wish, which you will, I’ll make sure you pay for these past weeks.”

“You love it,” Lacey chuckled. “You would have been out of here ages ago. I’ve said 'I wish' plenty of times. Any demon worth his salt would have taken me up on the ‘I wish Anderson Cooper was straight’ line I said last Tuesday. You barely blinked. You were too reading the reviews on the new Vin Diesel movie.”

“The man made a deal,” he huffed. “I like to follow up on my business transactions.”

“Neal’s a good guy,” Lacey finally offered. She held her phone above her face, knowing in the blue light he could easily see her despite the room’s darkness. “How’d that happen?”

“No idea,” came the surprising response. “I tried to teach him how to relish in hell fire and magical ways but he never took to it. Too much human in him. When he came of age, he chose immortality and forsook his magical inheritance.”

“Wasn’t he supposed to be a king?” Lacey asked.

“His father was overthrown after his mother’s death,” came the sullen response.

“Did you have anything to do with that?”

“Perhaps.”

“Well,” Lacey yawned, sitting upright to wipe at her heavily lined eyes. “I wouldn’t worry too much about it. He obviously cares about you. He didn’t make the trip all the way out here to the middle of nowhere just to eat Chinese.” Risking a glance at the silent demon next to her, Lacey found him staring forlornly into the fireplace. “Hey,” she said, nudging him with her elbow. “All teenagers rebel. It’s a stage.”

“Is that what you're doing here?” he replied, sweeping a judgmental eye over her. “I believe you a bit old to be indulging in ‘teenage rebellion’. “

“You don’t know the first thing about me,” Lacey clicked her phone close and stood over him. “And no, this is who I am. If I was someone else, perhaps you would be long gone from Storybrooke, back to the Dark whatever it’s called you came from but I’m not. Your son is a half demon, half human struggling to figure out where he belongs in this world, so cut him a break.”

Golden eyes narrowed at her. They were the only light in the room outside of the streetlamp that offered a faint bath of light over the studio apartment. Lacey sighed, tasting the whiskey and Chinese food on her breath. “I’m going to brush my teeth, and when I come out, you better be gone. Neal said he’d stop back by before he headed home tomorrow.”

“He’s still here?” came the surprised voice from the darkness.

“Went down to the Rabbit Hole, I texted Ruby to watch out for him. Show him a good time.”

“But you didn’t go?”

With a frustrated sigh, Lacey turned around to gaze at the lizard demon upon her couch. With a pointed finger, she made sure she had his attention before she answered. “I am tired. I had a full day hustling pool and a full night listening to your son vent about being an outsider and having a progenitor who is more concerned with his job than being a father. So, excuse me, if I thought it would be best to stay and wait for you to get over your tantrum, instead of going out and having a good time.”

He offered no response. Then, with a grave nod and a snap of his fingers, he was gone, leaving only smoke and the taste of sulfur in the air.

“Honestly,” Lacey grumbled as she shut the bathroom door behind her. “Men are such babies.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to ForeverYoungLadyAnne for catching that there is only 30 days in June- not 31 XD.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The House Guest prompt: DoDo insists on accompanying Lacey to the store. But even with a hoodie hiding his face, the Dark One spectacularly fails at being inconspicuous.

_August 27, 2015_

When her basket grew unexpectedly heavier, Lacey glanced down to find a rapidly defrosting carton of gelato nestled amongst the produce.

“No,” she said succinctly, plucking it from the basket. Without preamble, she stuffed it back into the frozen vegetable section before letting the cooler door slam shut. Before she got far, she heard the same door hiss open again. Twisting neatly despite her wedge sandals, Lacey leveled a finger at her shopping partner. “I said no, DoDo.”

From under the hoodie, she saw the blackened jagged teeth snarl at her before a sulking expression quickly replaced it. “I fail to understand why you’re dieting restrictions must limit my indulgences.” A hopeful smile peeped out from the shadows as he offered,” Simply say the word, and you’ll never gain another pound as long as you live.”

“Tempting,” Lacey murmured as she glanced into the ice cream section. Boxes of drumsticks danced before her behind the frosted glass, nestled provocatively beside the fudge pops and Klondike bars. “But knowing you, I’ll get hit by an ice cream truck the moment I step outside.”

A shrug followed this. “Living forever is also on the table,” he suggested helpfully.

“And age until I’m a bag of bones wheezing on the government’s laboratory table somewhere in Utah?” Lacey shook her head. “No thanks. I’ll continue to age normally, diet under duress and keep my soul as is.”

“Spoilsport,” he muttered under his breath. With a vague wave of his hand, the gelato disappeared from his grip.

“You have refrigeration in the land of the dead?” Lacey prodded him, reaching the end of the aisle and peering about before she hurried around the corner to the next section.

“Ice boxes aren’t all that magical,” he huffed. “That Evans fellow back in the 1800’s wished to be one of the smartest men in the world, never asked to be remembered though.” He giggled wickedly from behind her and she twisted to throw him a dark look over her shoulder.

“You do realize that talking about your previous deals doesn’t help convince me to sell my soul, don’t you?”

“Bah,” was the only response as he pushed past her to meander down the frozen food aisle. Lacey pushed her bangs behind her ear, hurrying after him. Maybe it was the chill bumps erupting along her legs where her skater skirt brushed the top of her thighs, or the way her nipples were tightening painfully under her crop top as her bare arms turned blue but she wanted to hurry up and get out.

She stumbled to a halt where DoDo was clucking over something, hands splayed across the glass leaving oddly shaped handprints where his talons tapped the frosting pane. Wearing a hoodie his half mortal, half demon son Neal had left in her apartment, the Dark One looked slight and diminutive in the fluorescent lighting of Sprat’s Grocery Emporium.

As Lacey glanced down at her cell phone to check the time, quarter to nine, fifteen minutes till close, she heard someone talking animatedly quickly approaching. “Hands,” she whispered harshly, moving to stand beside him. Of course, he didn’t listen, simply reaching for the door handle as he continued to stare intensely at something in the breakfast section. “Someone’s coming,” Lacey growled. “What did I say about being inconspicuous?”

He waved a hand dismissively, and Lacey felt the stirrings of magic ghost about her before fading away. “There, problem solved,” he grouched, face still hidden by his hood. “Now, stop hovering.”

“What did you-“

“Lacey?”

Looking up, Lacey felt herself straighten as she tried to block her demonic roommate with her own slight frame only to find someone doing the same exact thing with their companion.

Except instead of demonic roommate, it was a married man.

“Mary Margret,” Lacey greeted, hoisting her basket more securely on her arm. Neither of them looked at the figure behind her, so she assumed DoDo had made himself invisible. A trick he sometimes employed when she threatened to eviscerate him if he didn’t leave. “David, what a surprise.”

“Yea,” Mary Margret said quickly, shrugging as nonchalantly as she could manage. Lacey noticed the box of condoms, can of whipped cream and carton of strawberries just as Mary Margret remembered she was holding them. “Oh, these, I was just- ran into David, you know David, right?”

“Yea,” Lacey nodded, watching as he colored under her gaze. “We’ve met.”

“And who is this?” David asked, clearing his throat. Lacey stiffened as she realized DoDo had in fact not made himself invisible.

“Gold,” was the surprising answer as a pale, long fingered hand came out from the hoodie’s sleeve. “David, was it?”

David took the hand and shook it firmly in his own. Lacey was too busy staring in open-mouthed disbelief at the compact framed figure beside her. Gone was the curly mass of hair, instead silver lined shoulder length silken locks fell around his shoulders, slightly static from where the hood had been pulled over them.

His teeth were still crooked, she noticed as he introduced himself to Mary Margret, but were no longer black and rotted. His eyes warm and brown were the same shape as DoDo’s golden orbs and they were winking in delight as he caught her eye. He wiggled his eyebrows before draping an arm over her shoulders. “We were just out for a quick snack run,” he explained as he took the basket from her frozen arm.

“Us too,” David said before hurrying to add, “ Well, I was. I had a- craving for strawberry shortcake and I thought-“

“I see,” DoDo interrupted with a slow nod. “And you, Mary Margret?”

Lacey had to resist the urge to stomp on his foot, shake his arm off her shoulder and turn around and throttle him as the focus of his question colored slightly, but refused to look away.

“Ran out of condoms,” she gritted. “I ran into David here and he reminded me that milk is on sale, so I thought I better get some.”

“Ah,” the creature calling himself Gold said with another nod. “How thoughtful of him.”

“Just being neighborly to Miss Blanchard,” David added, wincing as Mary Margret shot him a truly poisonous look. “Anyways, we didn’t mean to keep you.“

“Yea, I have to be going,” Mary Margret said, holding up the box of condoms to shake it fiercely. “I’ll just be going now.“

“But the milk?” Gold reminded her, a grin surfacing about his mouth. David who had been turning away, stopped for a moment, before turning back around and staring at them both in confusion. As Mary Margret started on some line about skipping dairy after all, David was looking back and forth from the freezer to Gold, his brow furrowed.

Lacey glanced at the display case in question, heart dropping when she realized that whatever magic DoDo had conjured to mask his true self, it did not extend to reflections. In the mirror, a demonic form was standing beside her, scales, talons and golden eyes.

Propelling them both forward until they were out in the aisle, Lacey plucked his hand from her shoulder and squeezed it hard. She felt the scales underneath her palm, talons sharp when he squeezed back in retaliation. “Well, we should be going,” Lacey said. “Nice seeing you two, David, say hello to your wife for me.”

“Yea,” he said distractedly, staring at DoDo. “I will.”

Mary Margret’s face fell a bit at this, turning away from Lacey as she crossed her arms over her chest.

“Oh, Mary Margret, “Lacey added, unable to help herself. “I’ve been meaning to call you. If you aren’t doing anything tomorrow night, I’d love to set you up with my friend, Victor.”

DoDo was grinning now, swinging the basket thoughtlessly as he put her arm in his. “They would be perfect together,” he added with relish despite never having heard of Victor. She noticed his poker face was almost as good as her own, neither paying any attention to the increasingly darkening face of David Nolan.

“He’s a doctor,” Lacey threw in for good measure, watching as the still unemployed David deflated slightly. “I could give him your number?”

Jaw tilted ever so slightly upwards, Mary Margret met her eye steadily. Some kind of inner debate was going on but before she could answer, the Mr. Gold beside her threw in, “A lovely woman such as yourself probably has little need of our matchmaking services. Perhaps, we misunderstood your current situation. David, you don’t know if Miss Blanchard is seeing anyone currently, do you?”

Lacey threw him a look of startled awe. Perhaps this was the famed Dark One, Dealer of Lost Souls, she had heard so much from Neal. After all, DoDo usually just lounged around on her couch, ate her leftovers, and tested new potions in the bathroom.

“No,” David finally managed, sounding as if he was under water. “Not that I know of, at least.”

Mary Margret’s mouth was slightly open, looking from the strawberries in her hand to David’s glittering wedding band. Finally, she slipped the strawberries and whipped cream into his slack hands before nodding to Lacey. “Yea, give Victor my number.” She turned to Gold, offering her hand, now free of fruit. “Nice to meet you, Mr. Gold.”

“Likewise,” he said, his voice pitched low. Lacey noticed now how Mary Margret’s eyes glanced down at their joined hands, confused at the rough texture of his scales where it looked to be normal skin. Without another glance at David, she slipped down the aisle beside them and disappeared from their view. Lacey noticed she had still kept the box of condoms.

David looked torn between depression and resignation. However, when DoDo cleared his throat, a deep rumble, he glanced up, glaring. “The hell was that?” he demanded of them.

“What?”

“That- that –“

Lacey usually liked the pleasant and friendly David Nolan but as she recalled Mary Margret’s shoulders hunching over, she stepped forward, poking him in his chest with her finger.

“Last time I checked, you were a married man,” she told him sternly. “So, maybe you should make a choice instead of making accusations.”

He swallowed, looking away shamefully before he nodded gravelly. “I better get back home,” he said in a low voice. He glanced back up at Gold, brow furrowing in suspicion. “You good?” he asked her, voice pitched low. “I can walk you home if you’d like.”

Lacey laughed, shaking her head as she patted his bicep. “David, I’m fine. Believe me, he’s nothing I can’t handle.”

“If you say so,” David murmured before he bid them goodbye. He trailed back down the main aisle, disappearing down the storefront. A bored female clerk announced it was five till close over the intercom.

“Best be going then,” her roommate said, holding out the basket for to take. “Don’t want to miss that show of yours. “

“What the hell was that about?” Lacey demanded as they began to make their way to the front of the store. “If you can look human, why don’t you do that all the time?”

“And miss mister Hopper’s face?” he scoffed, and Lacey almost ran into a stand at the way his usual smile transformed his human face. He scowled at her as he realized she was staring. “You act as you’ve never seen a older man before.”

“Yea,” Lacey said hurriedly. “Just didn’t know demons could wrinkle.”

She ignored his responding diatribe as they made their way to the front of the store. As she handed the clerk her credit card, she heard him continuing to grumble, arms crossed sullenly over his chest as he peered angrily at the young bagger.

“Thank you for visiting,” the clerk flirted, ignoring Lacey as she shot a glance at Gold just behind her.

The rude noise he offered in return had Lacey quickly grabbing her card and the groceries, before grabbing his hand and tugging him after her. As the double doors hissed open, they stepped out into the warm summer night air.

Without preamble, he zipped down the hoodie, tugging it off in disdain as he threw it to her. “Ridiculous,” he grumbled as they headed out of the shining parking lights. “Mortals and your ridiculous sensibilities.”

“Yea,” Lacey murmured, trying to ignore the way his hair ghosted over his pulse point and the way his arm looked underneath the thin fabric of the button up he had somehow conjured into existence. “So, where’d the name Gold come from?”

“Americans have a thing about gold,” he said with a sniff. “They usually don’t even bother to ask for a Christian name.”

“Names have power?” she quoted back to him. He nodded, pleased at her memory.

“Well, in any case,” he said and a moment passed as she felt the familiar pull of magic on her skin. When she looked back over, the Dark One strode beside her, golden eyes gleaming in the porch lights of the street they walked down. “Much better,” he sighed, tugging down his white chiffon shirt where his jerkin hide vest gaped wide. “Flesh is so unpleasant.”

“Yea,” Lacey said, realizing she sounded like a broken record. She cleared her throat, hoisting her bag up further on his arm as the meager groceries began to somehow increase in weight. “You looked even worse as a human.”

He scoffed at that, raising a hand to his heart as they made their way back to their place.

They failed to notice David Nolan. He stood in his driveway across the street, staring slack jawed at them. Lacey was far too busy needling her roommate about his silver hair, crow-eyed human form as they hurried home before his frozen snacks melted.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A mangy stray cat has adopted the Dark One. DoDo doesn’t like it.

_September 21st, 2015, Mabon_

As the harvest moon rose over Storybrooke, it found little out of place that September evening. Most citizens were tucked inside from the northern wind off the Atlantic, curled up in front of fires and under blankets. Only a reckless few braved the wind and chill of the gale blowing in from the sea.

“Lacey,” chattered Archie. “Is this really a good idea?”

Twisting to favor her more prudent neighbor with a smile, Lacey laughed. “It’s not even raining yet!”

“I’m cold,” he informed her as he buried his hands deeper into his jacket pocket. “Besides, it’s going to start raining any minute!“

“Archie!” Lacey turned to face him, walking backwards down the center of Main Street. Her booties made a click clack against the pavement, echoing in the silence of the business district. “You said you never watched the storm from the beach!”

“I meant that as a good thing,” Archie sniffed, rubbing at his running nose with his sleeve. “It’s extremely dangerous!”

“Live a little, Archie!” Lacey lifted her hands over her head, eyes closing as a rumble of thunder broke the autumn air. “The cave off the cove is the best spot to watch a storm.”

“Thought it was the best spot for...“ He wasn’t able to finish, coloring rapidly and ducking his head away from her as he stumbled over the words. “You know…”

“Fucking?” Lacey teased as she lowered her hands to her side. “Come on, you’re seriously telling me you never went to the cave in high school?”

“I was a bit busy with other things,” Archie mumbled, brushing past her as he continued forward. “Studying, working at the market, chess club.“

Lacey giggled, catching up to him to lace her arm through his. “Chess club? Seriously?”

“Better that than shop,” Archie informed her as he pushed his glasses up his nose. “Besides, I like chess.”

Aa they made their way down the street, linked arm in arm, Lacey lifted the flask from her jacket pocket. She took a drink of the whiskey, savoring the heat. Archie declined it the first time but when they finally reached the beach, he took it from her and took a hearty swig, immediately coughing.

“Disgusting,” he said when he could speak again. “How can you drink that stuff?”

“It’s the only stuff DoDo doesn’t drink,” Lacey shrugged. “Well, cheapest thing that DoDo doesn’t drink.”

At the mention of her demonic roommate, Archie grew cautious, flipping a look over his shoulder as they reached the dunes. Lacey held slightly tighter to Archie as they began to lurch over the compact sand. “Where has he been lately anyway?”

It had been over a month since she had last seen the demon. Lacey was honestly unsure if she would ever see him again, which, she reminded herself, was a good thing.

Opening her mouth to respond, a voice rang out from the shadows of the pier. “Why, Mr. Hopper! I didn’t realize you cared.”

Melting out of the darkness into the harvest moon’s pale light, the Dark One materialized with traces of smoke still tracing along behind him. In the moonlight, he looked ethereal, skin glowing faintly and golden eyes gleaming. Archie gulped, Lacey squeezing his arm as she greeted her roommate cooly. “And where have you been?”

The creature lifted his hand over his heart, leaning backwards in shock as he fixed his lantern eyes on her. “That’s how you greet your domestic partner?”

“You are not my domestic partner,” Lacey told him as she pulled Archie along the dunes. “You’re a figment of my imagination that won’t go away.”

“Technically, he’s a shared psychosis,” Archie offered tentatively, quickly falling silent as the Dark One shot him a poisonous look.

“You shouldn’t be out,” giggled the demon, falling easily in step with them. “Not on Mabon.”

“Mabon?” Lacey repeated, ignoring him as she scanned the shore for the familiar rocks of the cave. “Hey, this way.”

“The Feast of the Ingathering,” Dodo said, wiggling his eyebrows at them in the moonlight. “The veil between your world and mine begins to thin in preparation for Samhein.”

“Halloween,” Archie said aside to Lacey.

“My, my,” DoDo preened. “Master Hopper knows his pagan holidays.”

“College,” Archie said, coloring again slightly. “There was a girl.”

“Always is,” DoDo said under his breath. Lacey ignored the two of them, finally locating what she was looking for just as storm clouds overhead finally began to shower.

Lacey and Archie took off as the rain began to thicken, droplets hissing as they crashed down to earth. Another rumble of thunder roared overhead and then a strike of white light split the sky. They reached the cave just as the skies opened open and a downpour fell from the heavens. Lacey panted, leaning against the cave as she bent down to massage her ankles. “Hell of a time to leave your umbrella at home,” she said archly to Archie who gaped at her.

“You told me to leave it!”

“Well, I didn’t think we’d get caught in the rain!”

“You wanted to come to the beach to watch a thunderstorm! What did you think was going to happen?”

“Temper, temper,” DoDo giggled, emerging from nowhere on the rock beside Lacey. “Best watch that.”

“And, of course, he’s here!” Archie continued, wiping his glasses off on his shirtfront.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Lacey said hotly, brushing the sand from her tights. “I didn’t invite him!”

DoDo made a noise of affront, lifting up first from his seat and then the balls of his toes. “I,” he said in a high-pitched singsong voice, “was merely attempting to warn you two ninnies.”

“Warn us?” Archie said, concern coloring his tone even as he lifted his jaw. “What for?”

Releasing a deep sigh, the Dark One shook his head. “I just finished telling you,“ he admonished the redhead. “It’s Mabon.”

“You keep saying that,” Lacey growled, kicking at the sand along the cave floor. “Still don’t know what it means.”

“Little pagan holiday. Has something or other to do with human sacrifice for a healthy winter,” the demon said deadpan, eyeing her with his bulbous eyes. “And you two out and about when most mortals have the good sense to stay indoor on nights like these.”

“It’s September 21st,” Lacey reminded him. “Hardly Halloween.”

“No, it’s Mabon,” Dodo grumbled, lifting a clawed hand to his brow in consternation. “Honestly, it’s like talking to a wall sometimes.”

“Look, maybe we should just sit tight until the storm breaks,” Archie broke in, looking out over the ocean as it churned under the storm. “Head back when the rain abates.”

“Wonderful idea,” DoDo said with a clap of his hands. “Or,” he paused, lifting a finger to his mouth. “I could simply remove you back to your own domicile.”

With a wave of his hand, smoke billowed forth, wrapping around Archie until the taller man disappeared from view. Lacey simply groaned, letting her head drop in her hands as she sat on the cold rock.

When the smoke disappeared, so had Archie.

“Was that necessary?” Lacey sighed. “I mean, you couldn’t have sent me along too?”

“Do you wish to be back home?” The Dark One asked, leaning down into her personal space. “Just say the words…”

“Get lost,” Lacey snapped, folding her arms over her chest as the wind blew rain and sea into the cave. “You know very well Archie’s going to risk catching a cold by marching down here with nothing more than an umbrella to rescue me from your dastardly clutches.”

As if a flip had been switched, her roommate crowed, clapping his hands together as he plopped down beside her on the rock. “Do you really think so?” he asked hopefully. “How delightful!”

“You’re terrible,” Lacey sighed, nudging him with her shoulder. “What were you doing out here anyway?”

He suddenly became very tight lipped, looking up in interest at the ceiling as he examined it.

“Fine,” Lacey grumbled. “Be that way.”

Outside the storm raged, sea foam rising high on waves before crashing back into the ocean depths. Storm clouds were black and heavy, close enough to touch it seemed like as lighting tore the sky apart and thunder rumbled and echoed through their cavern hideout.

“Myraw?”

“The hell was that?” Lacey asked, standing and turning to the blacker parts of the cave. DoDo sat where he was, but he too peered into the darkness, a look of confusion on his face.

The noise repeated, slightly louder this time, “Myraw!”

And into the dim light of the moon, stumbled a black mangy cat.

“Myraw?” it repeated, blinking up at them with one blue eye and one green.

“It’s a cat,” Lacey said dumbly. “The hell is a cat doing in here?”

“Absolutely not,” the Dark One growled, shooing it away. “Be gone, queen.”

“Queen?” Lacey asked, turning to him in amusement.

“It’s what a female cat is called,” he told her icily. “Though this one is ugly enough to be mistaken for a tom.”

Realizing she was being discussed, the cat padded forward until it sat just out of reach of DoDo, staring up at him with large mismatched eyes. Calico in nature, the cat had one half of pure black perfectly split down one side, and the other was spotted with whites, cremes, and dark browns. The matted short hair stuck up at every angle and her tail was stunted, obviously cut off or lost in some fight.

DoDo grimaced at the creature, snarling his face up to show his black rotten teeth. The Queen nearly yawned, showing of her own broken and yellowed bite and her long pink tongue before she snapped it close. She resumed her watch of him, eyes bright as her stubby tail swept over the floor.

“Looks like you have a fan,” Lacey commented, leaning against the cool cave wall to watch this new situation unfold. The cat’s tall years flickered at the sound but she did not turn from the Dark One’s gaze.

“Shoo,” DoDo hissed at her, kicking out one booted foot. The cat yowled in disapproval, leaping away. Once the imminent danger had passed, the queen began to lick her paw as if nothing had happened.

“Must be living in the cave,” Lacey said, craning her neck to look into the darkness of the cave’s tunnel.

“Doubtful,” DoDo grouched. “A familiar does not simply appear on Mabon.”

Lacey looked back over at the cat, now sitting proudly as she once again stared down the demon on the rock. “You’re telling me she’s a familiar? But you’re not a witch.”

“Of course not,” he snapped. “Tell that to this infernal creature.”

“You could always just magic us home,” Lacey said helpfully. “She wouldn’t be able to find us.”

He laughed abruptly before shaking his head fitfully. “You have no idea the ways of the spirit world,” he told her, taking some joy in reminding her of her limited knowledge. “If you had bothered to read that dratted book of yours, you would know familiars are part of the ways of the world. Felines can either dampen magic’s powers or heighten it, depending on their inclination. ”

“No pets,” Lacey took a step towards her roommate, aiming to sit for a moment. Focused on her goal, she didn’t realize the cat had moved into her path, and she felt her foot descend on something soft just as a loud screeching noise came from her feet as the cat shot out from underneath her.

“Shit!” Lacey cried, jumping backwards. She lost her balance on the shifting sand and fell, her ass landing painfully on the ground. “What the fuck?“

DoDo was giggling now, and Lacey shot him a murderous look before she glanced back down at the cat. She remained reared up, eyes narrowed and ears on her head as she stared her down.

“I didn’t mean to!” Lacey told the cat, flinging some sand at it. Sidestepping the thrown particles with ease, the mangy cat sat back down, watching her with narrowed eyes. “Stupid cat.”

“Now, now,” DoDo admonished her. “Behave.”

“Yea,” Lacey agreed, sticking her tongue out at the mangy thing. “Behave.”

“I was talking to you, dearie,” DoDo giggled. The cat, interested in the back and forth, had crept closer to the demon, and without his noticing, managed to get up on the rock beside him. He pushed it away from him, ignoring the purring noises it was making. “Shoo,” he admonished it. “Be gone!”

“Are you kidding me?” Lacey groaned, watching the cat purr and butt at his side. “She just nearly took my head off and she’s trying to cuddle with you!”

Another “Myraw” caused them both to turn back to the cat, “Quiet, you! And you,” she said turning towards the Dark One. “You go back to wherever it was you were!”

A faint noise outside made Lacey turn but before she could register it, the Dark One bounced in front of her and leaned down until his nose was almost touching hers.

“Admit it,” he told her, smiling his odd little half smile. “You missed me.”

“In your dreams,” Lacey told him with her own smirk, leaning closer to him.

“Then, why,” he asked, immensely enjoying himself. “Did you drag Master Hopper into the storm?”

“He’s never been here,” Lacey narrowed her eyes at him. “Maybe I wanted to show him what he had been missing.”

Another switch flipped, and DoDo was no longer smiling. “You do not feel that way for Master Hopper,” DoDo told her sternly. “You care for him.”

“So?” Lacey said, getting defensive. “What does that have to do with anything?”

Another sound came from outside, a long echoing call that was distorted by the sound of the wind and waves. Lacey turned her attention back to her roommate to find him crouching before her, head tilted as he regarded her.

“What?” she demanded. “Stop looking at me like that.”

“Lacey!”

The cat meowed louder, padding forward as a shadow appeared at the lip of the cave. “Lacey!”

“Archie?” Lacey groaned, climbing to her feet. “You shouldn’t have come back out here!”

The redhead stumbled into the cave, hair-sopping wet with his umbrella blown clear inside out and his jacket soaked through. “But Mabon-“

DoDo giggled. “Oh, I was just kidding about that.” He turned to Lacey, lifting his hands up in supplication. “Rather fun for us demons.”

“You,” Lacey said, leveling a finger at him. “Are the worst. Now, let’s go home before Archie gets pneumonia.”

“Ah ah ha!” DoDo wagged a finger at her. “Say the magic words!”

“Fine,” Lacey snapped. “You can have the remote for a week.”

“Done!” he crowed, clapping his hands together rapidly in joy. With a snap of his fingers, he pointed at the two of them, smoke swirling and building until they had disappeared from sight.

The demon known as the Dark One, eater of souls and master of all dark arts, bounced happily on his toes as the tide neared the cave’s entrance. “Now, then,” he said to himself, raising his hand up to disappear back to his own realm when he suddenly paused.

“Myraw,” came the answer to his unasked question. He looked down to find the feline wrapped around his ankles.

“Yes,” he said, lifting one foot and then the other to rid himself of the creature. “You were very entertaining, now get along.”

Undeterred, the feline looked up at him, blinking her mismatched eyes before yawning again.

“Get,” DoDo told it sternly, shooing it away with his hands. “You know the rules.”

Whether or not the queen knew the rules, she chose to ignore them. With another yowl, she wrapped herself back around his booted ankles, sitting primly on one to firmly mark her stance.

“Cursed creature,” he hissed down at it. “I said shoo!”

And with a firm kick of his leg, he managed to dislodge the stubborn thing before willing himself away and back to his dimension of the shadow world. He had a few more things to take care of before Mabon’s end and his little dalliance at the caves had cost him dearly as far as time.  
\--

“Myraw!”

Lacey stopped dead in her tracks as Archie peered over his rim of tea at the noise. Lacey went to the door, pulling it open. She looked down in amusement at the stray cat sitting primly on her doorstep. The feline was soaking wet, blinking up at her with those odd mismatched eyes as if she hadn’t just walked two miles in a thunderstorm.

“Oh, fine,” she said resignedly, opening the door wider to allow the feline access. “Just for tonight, though,” Lacey told her, ignoring Archie’s protest about fleas. “Tomorrow, you go back to the streets.”

Utter nonsense of course. By the end of the night, Queenie had her own box by the fire, two cans of tuna and a makeshift collar. Despite the loud and vehement demands of the demon to remove her from her new domicile, Queenie stayed.

After all, every cat knew a good thing when they found it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rough prompt fill, no beta. 
> 
> As always, this is a prompt verse, so if you want more- come over to Tumblr to prompt!


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Dark One tries to explain the plot of the TV show “Happy Endings” (basically Once Upon A Time) to Lacey, who is less than impressed (obviously).

_September 27, 2015_

Outside, the drizzle of rain pattered the windows as the autumn evening drew to a close. Only the faint light of the street lamps offered any illumination in the grey gloom of the evening as Storybrooke shuttered their windows and closed the curtains.

Inside the small apartment of Lacey French, the calming sound of the rain was drowned out by a musical swell of theme music as the small television set blared to life. Sitting bolt upright from where she had fallen asleep on the couch earlier that afternoon, Lacey found herself staring at the nonplussed face of her demonic roommate.

Blinking from under her matted hair stuck to her forehead, Lacey grabbed the pillow beneath her and swung it, hard. Snake like eyes swept over to her with a glare before they went back to the screen, a hand raised and lowered to demand her continued silence.

Her mouth fell open in outraged indignation as she struggled from the depths of the blanket she had been wrapped herself in to keep the fall chill out. “Don’t you shush me,” she warned him, holding the pillow back up. “You can’t just magic in here and-“

Without even glancing at her, he snapped his fingers together. Lacey found her voice gone. Mouth opening and closing as her diatribe of words found no expression, Lacey began to pummel him with the pillow as she continued her silent barrage of curses.

It was unsurprising but equally infuriating when she found her pillow vanished from her hands and her blanket starting to tighten around her until she was immobilized in a seated position on the couch. Finding no way to reach him with either her mummified legs and just out of arm’s length of him, Lacey slumped back to the couch, panting silently.

“Done throwing a fit?” he asked idly. As a commercial break began, he got up from the couch. The countertop was now littered with a few bottles of wine, mostly red. The demon picked the nearest one, popping the cork with his clawed finger and inhaling the heady grapes with a satisfied sigh. “Ah, chianti.”

Having been asleep for four hours judging by the light outside, Lacey’s mouth tasted like rubbish, dry and sour from her nap. She licked her lips as her roommate began to pour out the wine. His back slightly towards her, she could still see every drop of the red vintage hit the curve of the glass, bubbling and bursting in a rich riot of color.

A new commercial began, some terrible car dealership on the edge of town and DoDo shook his head as he put the wine down. “Thirsty?” he asked her, moving towards the fridge. In response, Lacey stuck her tongue out at him.

As the door swung open, Lacey found her empty fridge, which this morning had just had a lone can of beer and expired milk, was full to the brim with cheeses and meats. With a rumble, her stomach betrayed her interest and she quickly turned back to the television.

He put together a plate as the new few commercials droned in the background. Lacey could smell the pepperoni and salami as he cut them, and then the rich smells of the various cheeses before she finally gave up. With a slap on the couch’s back, she demanded his attention. He raised one of his damnable brows at her, his grin hovering just over his horrible teeth. "Oh, did you-?”

“You know perfectly well-“ Lacey stumbled to a halt as she heard her voice. With another glare at him, she crossed her arms before turning back to the television. The show had returned, some various attractive young Hollywood types staring out in concern as some terrible CGI beast appeared in view. “What the hell are we watching anyways?”

Coming around the corner, he settled down beside her, nudging her slightly out of the way as he lowered his appetizer to the table. Lacey watched as two wine glasses floated in his wake, settling down on the table. Leaning forward, Lacey found the glass just out of her reach.

“Hilarious,” she muttered darkly as she slumped back against the cushions. Her blanket wrapped legs were starting to heat up and she glanced over at the fireplace to find a fire had been crackling, unheard over the din of the TV. “Aren’t you hot?”

He shushed her again, giving her a warning look as he raised a finger at her. “Not when the show’s on,” he reminded her. However, she found her wine glass nudge itself forward within her reach. Lacey, content at least to nibble on what appeared to be fresh goat cheese and some kind of pimento spread, shrugged her shoulders and sat back to watch the fiasco unfolding on screen.

It was rather straightforward, at least that’s what she thought at first. Then, there was flash backs, flash forwards, flash sideways into alternative universes, some light time travel and that was al before the next commercial break.

“What,” Lacey said when the screen faded away to reveal a commercial for a chain grocery store, “are you watching?”

“Happy Endings!” he chirped, pouring more wine into his empty glass. Lacey frowned at the bottle, looking at her own empty glass before holding it out to him.

“I repeat,” she said sardonically as he poured her a healthy amount. “What are you watching?”

His nose wrinkled up at her as he snatched a piece of ham from the nearly empty plate. “It’s a mythology story, I don’t expect you to be able to follow such an intricate show.“

“Bullshit,” Lacey said, feeling a grin tug up one corner of her mouth. “It’s a soap opera on primetime.”

“It is not,” he said hotly, but his hand twitched at his side. Lacey felt her grin spread into a smile as she leaned forward. The fire had died down slightly, leaving her still warm but that may also have been the wine.

“It is!” Lacey giggled. “DoDo, you never cease to amaze me. Who did you make a deal with to get this piece of crap on primetime?”

When he didn’t respond, Lacey raised her brows. “Wow,” she muttered, raising the glass to her lips. “Well, I don’t understand who is related to who- but I thought that one guy was her father?”

“Adopted father,” he clarified with a sniff. “She thinks he’s her long lost brother.”

“Why?”

“Because her long lost brother is a dead ringer for her adopted father.”

“Wait, what?”

He ignored her as the show flickered back, turning the volume up as some newcomer appeared on screen, limping slightly before disappearing in a burst of magical CGI.

“Who’s that?” Lacey demanded, enjoying needling her houseguest on his terrible choice in programs. “A wizard?”

He scoffed and Lacey had to sip her wine to hide her growing smile. “He’s one of the Immortals.”

“Oh,” Lacey said, nodding along despite not understanding at all. “And who is that?”

On screen, a young ingénue had appeared, large brown eyes blinking as she faced down some kind of evildoer. Well, Lacey figured he was an evildoer as he was in all black. The Immortal, or whoever he was, appeared before her, only to fall at the hands of the evildoer. Lacey was about to make some scathing comment about heroes when the young woman bashed the black garbed villain and stood victorious over the two prone forms.

“Hmm,” Lacey said appreciatively. “I like her. Plus, I think I have those shoes.”

“You have knock offs of those shoes,” DoDo growled, obviously annoyed at her continued talking.

Watching as the interesting woman disappeared and the less interesting previous characters appeared, Lacey asked, “Who was she?”

“Hope O’Hara,” he said, pushing the volume button up to drown her out. “She’s in love with the Immortal.”

“Oh,” Lacey sniggered. “It’s a romance.”

She silenced when he gave her a pointed look. Rather be silent on her own choice than his, she reckoned as she began to drink again. Honestly, the more she consumed of the heady chianti, the more the slow appealed to her. Occasionally, she asked a question.

“Wait, I thought the blonde was with the brunette senator?”

“No, she’s with the merman.”

“The guy in all black? Well, that’s stupid, she obviously is in love with the Senator Woman.”

“The Senator is with the bank robber,” he explained with a pinch of his nose.

“I thought the bank robber was having a baby with the leprechaun lady?”

“He is, but he thinks she’s his wife.”

“He’s married?”

As the show continued, Lacey realized it was going rather longer than most programs. She leaned over to check and sure enough, it was almost eleven. “DoDo,” she sighed. “Are you pirating?”

“It’s not pirating if they haven’t aired it yet,” he said with a haughty air. “Besides, I have a few business arrangements the next few Sundays, I didn’t want to miss anything.”

“Then, why are we watching the commercials?” Lacey asked as another popped onto the screen.

“Because,” he said with a heavy sigh. “All magic comes with a price.”

As the night went on, Lacey’s tongue loosened by wine and by DoDo’s exasperation continued to pepper him with questions.

“If Hope is in possession of the Book of the All Knowing, why don’t they ask her for help?”

“Why do they all hate the Immortal so much? He’s saved their asses in the cave of wonder!”

“She’s back? Oh come on- What happened to the ‘No one can come back form the dead’ rule?”

“Wait, did they lose their memories again? Does no one write anything down?”

Finally, the TV clicked off, leaving Lacey sputtering in outrage. “Hey!” She grabbed for the remote. “We didn’t find out if Hope is really going to sleep with the elephant trainer! And what happened to the Immortal? He can’t be really banished to Las Vegas, for good, can he?”

“That’s all they’ve filmed so far,” DoDo explained with a twist of his elbow. “I can’t very well magic them into existence.”

“The Immortal could,” Lacey muttered darkly under her breath.

“I heard that,” he said hotly. “He’s a fictional character. Hardly within the realm of possibility-“

For the next hour, the two sat on the couch debating the merits of the magical abilities of a fallen god and his limitations. They touched briefly on the romance between the mortal woman Hope and her cursed lover but when Lacey began to get overly upset about Hope’s lack of screen time, she stood up abruptly.

“It was silly show,” she said, stretching her arms overhead as she made her way to the sink.

“Whatever you say,” DoDo replied drily.

As Lacey turned on the hot water, rinsing out the glasses before she headed to bed, she frowned as she stared at herself in the small kitchen window over the sink. She could see the TV still lit up- the news streaming quietly as DoDo busied himself with whatever he had up his sleeve.

Finally, she spoke.

“When did you say the next episode films?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay guys, I hope you enjoyed this little crack chapter!


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> House Guest!Lacey throws together a semi-nice sit down dinner for Neal and his father. Also, the Dark One smokes his first blunt.

_October 3rd, 2015_

“Madness,” Lacey growled under her breath, just as another strand of hair escaped her ponytail to dangle traitorously in her line of sight. “Absolute fucking madness.”

The kitchen of her studio apartment looked as if a tornado had ripped through it. Pots and pans stood at odds with each other on the oven burners, some bubbling still whiles others were piled in the sink, still half filled with whatever she had ruined in her earlier attempts. As far as her personally, Lacey had flour on her cheek, syrup stuck to her fingers and a lot of sauce splattered on her apron. A curious “Moaw” as Queenie looked up from her grooming, her mismatched eyes glowing in the light from the freshly cleaned window.

“You aren’t getting any,” Lacey reminded her, leveling a spatula at the cat. Queenie simply returned to licking her paws, clearly uninterested regardless. Not that Lacey blamed her. Looking back down at the mixing bowl, she noticed clumps of cake mix still holding together despite her whisking attempts this past half hour. Blowing the strand of hair away from her face, Lacey bent back over her task, one eye glancing fretfully at the stove clock.

4:55, it read in blazing red letters. Cursing under her breath, Lacey gave up on the cake, hustling over to grab her cell phone. Sending a few rapid fire texts, all the while peering over her shoulder in case her erstwhile roommate decided to appear, Lacey made sure she was covered in case the pork roast in the oven didn’t cook in time for supper.

A few moments later, she slumped into the kitchen chair with a sigh of relief. Queenie came over to purr questionably at her until she allowed the feline into her lap. Content to curl up, Queenie soon fell asleep, kneading her paws into Lacey’s apron covered thighs. Yawning, Lacey stroked the now un-matted but still short fur of her latest houseguest as she nodded off. She did not notice the burning smell emanating from the stove.

\--

“Jesus Christ! Lacey!”

Jerking awake, Lacey dislodged a vocally unhappy cat from her lap. Smoke was thick in the small dingy apartment, the smell of charred meat and souring batter rancid in the enclosed space.

Framed in the doorway, almost afraid to enter, stood Ruby Lucas, holding four giant take out bags from her grandmother’s diner. Her wide green eyes took in the scene, incredulous. Startled into action, Lacey grabbed for the pot holders, flipping the ancient stove door open to release thick black fumes into the already smoky room. Ruby appeared at her side, opening the kitchen window as best she could. “Don’t you have a smoke alarm?” she berated Lacey. “You could have died!”

“I would have woken up,” Lacey told her defensively. Her mind was still sluggish from her nap but the bolt of adrenaline had energized her limbs. “Beside, it’s not like he’d let me die of smoke inhalation, it wouldn’t be nearly enjoyable enough for him.”

“He? Who are you talking about?” Ruby asked, looking over her shoulder as she wrestled with the stuck windowpane. “The cat?”

Lacey ignored her, staring at the mangled, melted remains of her pork roast and the pan in which it had been. “Shit, shit, shit.”

“This place is going to reek for weeks,” Ruby said, apparently having calmed down enough to be pragmatic. “You’re lucky there’s no fire damage.”

“This is just what I don’t need today,” Lacey grumbled, reaching for the charred remains of dinner. Another glance at the clock stretched her nerves tighter. Company was due any second and Ruby seemed uninterested in leaving. At the moment, her friend was still at the window, peering down at interest at something below.

“Don’t look now,” Ruby whistled. “But Mr. In Everyone’s Business is hustling over here.”

“His name,” Lacey scolded, using her hip to shove Ruby out of the way to dump the ruins of meat into the kitchen sink, “is Archie.”

“Potatoes, potatoes,” Ruby murmured back. “You know, when most people order take out, they usually have already burned down their kitchen.”

Lacey stared balefully at the mess that was her kitchen. Pots and pans were stacked here and there, half filled with goop and vegetables that had meant to be sides but were now congealed gelatin. “Yea, well, call it insurance. At least, I can still salvage the cake.”

Glancing over at her abandoned cake mix, she found Queenie helping herself to it, lapping the batter out of the bowl as if it was catnip. “Queenie!” Lacey yelled, tossing one of the potholders at her. “Get off the counter!”

The cat didn’t twitch a muscle as the potholder fell somewhere short of her perch. She blinked at the two of them before casually slinking off the counter, sauntering off towards the bed. Ruby watched her, an unpleasant look on her face.

“When exactly did you get a cat?” she asked as she went to retrieve the take out from the hallway.

“Long story,” Lacey grumbled, as she turned the water faucet. Bursts of cold water quickly stifled out the remaining smoking embers of her dinner just as Archie Hopper appeared in the doorway, brandishing an umbrella and completely out of breath.

“What’s he done this time?” He shouted angrily, stumbling to a stop as he came face to face with Ruby. Blushing furiously, he muttered, “Oh, Miss Lucas! I didn’t see you there…”

Ruby offered him a tight smile and a wary look, “No, I don’t imagine you did behind that giant parasol.” Archie blinked, unsettled as he tugged at his sweater vest, looking very much like he would love nothing more than to disappear. He had confessed to Lacey one night his serious crush on Ruby Lucas, who he had never spoken a word to her other than “Diet Coke” or “Medium Well”.

Now, faced with her unexpectedly outside the diner, he seemed terribly ill at ease. He shot Lacey a betrayed glance, as if she had arranged this whole mess. “I saw smoke,” he explained, gesturing towards the window with the umbrella.

“And the umbrella would have helped, how?” Ruby asked pointedly as she finished putting the take out containers in the fridge. Archie, looked over to Lacey who could only shrug at him from behind Ruby. Lacey knew full well why Archie had taken to carrying an umbrella around with him. It was after all partly her fault. Having gone to a well-known beach cave, they had gotten caught in a torrential downpour. When her magical roommate had appeared to tag along, he had magicked Archie back to town, several blocks from his house. Archie had walked back to the beach to make sure she was all right, getting even more drenched in the process. He now had taken to carrying an umbrella with him, whenever he visited.

“Well,” he started lamely. “Just a habit, I suppose…”

“We got caught out in the rain storm last week,” Lacey explained, taking mercy on the psychiatrist. “Archie’s barely over his cold, I’m guessing it’s a bit second nature to him now.”

“Weird, if you ask me,” Ruby muttered to herself as she helped herself to one of the beers in the fridge. “Lace,” she said, popping the can open as she made herself at home. “Granny was asking why you needed five servings of lasagna.”

Lacey nudged her out of the way as she moved to get her own bottle of beer, handing one over to Archie who still stood awkwardly in the open door. “I only ordered four,” she said, puzzled as she took in the extra bag. It also appeared to be a whole pie in one of the bags, another thing she hadn’t ordered.

“Oh, yea,” Ruby nodded. “I added one for me. Figured you had probably just forgotten to invite me. Which would be weird, considering I’m your best friend.”

Silence fell at this. Of course, Lacey couldn’t explain to her best friend that her magical, demonic roommate and his immortal half-breed son were coming to dinner, nor could she explain why Archie was here, having already met DoDo on multiple occasions due to the proximity of his house to her place. “Ruby, it’s not like that…”

“Oh?” Said the statuesque brunette, leaning against the counter. “And so, Mary Margret didn’t run into you at the grocery store last month with some older guy? Because I know you would tell me if you were seeing someone, even if it was just for sex.”

Archie looked confused as he glanced between the two of them. “What older man?”

“Archie!” Lacey groaned. “Not you too.”

“I just thought-“

“How could you-“

Both of them started in on her at once, and Lacey held her hands up defensively. “Guys,” Lacey started, feeling the beginning of a headache as the clock on the stove flipped over to reveal 6:20. “Look, Ruby, I’m sorry I didn’t invite you but I have some out of town guests arriving any minute now-“

“Oh you mean Neal?” Ruby said succinctly, arching her eyebrow at Lacey as she sipped her beer.

Confused, Lacey began, “How did you-“ before she paused, closing her eyes as she fought to gain control of her already frayed nerves. Of course, Neal had called Ruby. The two of them had hit it off the last time they were in town. He had even mentioned he planned on staying in town for a few days. “Ruby, I thought you said you guys were just friends!”

“We are!” Ruby said hotly. “Which I thought we were! But you’ve been so weird since you broke up with Keith!”

“We didn’t break up,” Lacey replied tartly. “We were never going out in the first place because he’s a sick, violent bastard!”

“Now, now,” came the last voice Lacey wanted to hear at the moment. “What’s all this racket?”

Ruby, already fair by nature, drained of all color as she gaped wordlessly at the apparition that had just appeared before them. Perched on the back of the couch, Queenie already butting her head against his thigh, giggled the Dark One, in his all his dark and majestic glory. Archie, clutched his umbrella tighter, as he moved closer to Lacey.

“You’re early,” Lacey scolded him. “I haven’t even had time to clean.”

“Clean?” He mocked, eyebrows dancing over his twinkling golden eyes. “Do you even know how?”

“Watch it,” Lacey warned him. She glanced at the mess of pots and pans, sticky spills and trash piling out of the can. “I still have some time-“

“Lacey,” Ruby whispered, fingers white knuckled where she was gripping the counter. “Please, tell me I’m not the only one seeing this.”

“Charming,” giggled the Dark One with a twist of his wrist. “Even Master Hopper managed not to faint.”

Ruby managed to unglue her eyes from the scaled, leather-wearing demon before her to look helplessly over at the bespectacled man beside her. “What is going on?” She asked faintly.

Clearing her throat, Lacey grabbed the attention of the people in the room. “First things, first,” she said authoritatively. “Neal’s going to be here any minute. Do you want him to see the place like this?”

“What do I care?” He asked her as he tried to brush Queenie away.

Knowing he was already prickly when it came to his estranged son, Lacey played her trump card. “Because you want him to keep coming back, don’t you?”

With a scoff and snap of his fingers, the entire apartment burst into a million tiny white lights. Ruby let out some odd half gasp while Archie pushed his umbrella out in front of him like a shield. When the lights faded, the entire place was immaculate. Even the spills and splatters on Lacey’s person had been scrubbed away as the smell of smoke, burned food and rotting trash disappeared.

“What the hell-“ Ruby gasped as she staggered towards Archie. He gamely patted her on the back in a reassuring fashion, causing her to glance at him in some alarm. “What is going on around here?”

“Ruby,” Lacey sighed, tucking her bangs behind her ears. “Meet my roommate, DoDo.”

“The Dark One,” hissed DoDo menacingly. “The least you can do after I clean your filthy place is to introduce me in the manner my power demands!”

“Filthy?” Lacey squawked, as Queenie meowed loudly in protest of DoDo’s continued ignorance of her attentions. “You live here too you know, it wouldn’t kill you to clean the litter box out every once in a while!”

“She’s your pet!”

“She’s your familiar!”

Glaring at each other, they continued to throw barbs at one another as Ruby and Archie stood forgotten in the small space by the door.

“What’s a Dark One?” Ruby whispered to Archie, not taking her eyes off the gleaming golden creature before her.

Archie shrugged with one shoulder, “Far as I can tell, he’s a demon. Lacey accidentally summoned him somehow and he won’t leave until she makes a deal with him.”

“A deal?” Ruby asked, watching as an apron flew across the room.

A jet of dark green magic shot back across the room, Lacey shouting in indignation as she dodged it,” No hexes in the house!”

Archie continued,” He makes deals. But all magic comes with a price, or something weird like that, so if Lacey agrees to a deal, she loses her soul.”

“Oh,” Ruby replied in confusion.

“See if I ever try and do anything nice for you again!” Lacey shouted, hands planted firmly on her hips.

“How is poisoning myself and my son nice?”

“You vile, horrible little-“

Archie and Ruby continued to watch the scene before them, blinking and immobile.

“Should we-“ Ruby started.

“Nah, they’ll work it out here in a minute. Papa’s enjoying himself.” Neal had joined them, dropping a duffel bag on the floor.

“Papa?” Ruby asked as Neal slung his arm around her. “You’re telling me-“

He dodged her question, looking over at the man beside her. “You must be Archie,” he said, releasing Ruby from a one-arm hug to hold out his hand to Archie. “Nice to finally meet you.”

“Likewise,” Archie said, grasping his hand in a strong grip, obviously relieved that Neal was human. “I’m afraid they’ve been at it for a while now.”

“Dinner ready?” Neal asked, curiously.

Ruby nodded, gesturing towards the fridge with her beer bottle. “Just needs to be heated up.”

“Oh, any more beer left?” Neal asked, eyeing her near empty bottle. “I can make a run?”

“Neal!” Lacey exclaimed, catching sight of him. She smoothed down her hair as she shot one last glare at her roommate. “When did you get here?”

“Baelfire,” DoDo called out as he stood from the couch. However, as he took in his first born, his eyes darkened. “Do you not own anything beside that wretched hoodie?”

Neal ignored him, heading to the fridge where he found the six-pack and its fellows. As he handed some out, his eyes caught the take away containers. “Granny’s?” He teased as he straightened. “I thought we were getting a home cooked meal?”

“You are,” Lacey grumbled. “It’s just not by me.”

“Excuse me,” Ruby chimed in. “Look, can someone please tell me what the hell is going on here? You’re his son?” She asked Neal. He nodded, smiling roguishly at her as he rubbed the back of his neck. “And he’s your roommate?” She said, twisting to Lacey.

“Something like that,” Lacey sighed. “But it’s complicated.”

“So, who is the guy Blanchard saw you with?“

Count on Ruby to remember that, Lacey thought darkly. Clearing her throat, she asked, “Who wants dinner?”

Ruby shook her head as Neal slung his arms around her and Archie both. DoDo was already reaching for the remote, as Queenie wrapped herself around his legs adoringly. “So,” Neal said confidingly. “Want to see a four century old demon of the darkest realms get stoned?”

Ruby, for the first time since DoDo materialized into her life, smiled and raised the beer to her lips to mask it. Archie, looked horrified, but resigned. Lacey was bustling around, ignoring the continued snark from the demon who was busy flipping through channels. Neal, slipping his hand inside his hoodie pocket, called out innocently, “Hey, Papa? Want to step outside for bit? I found a apothecary in New York that had some interesting mystical herbs.”

After a few interested questions, the Dark One disappeared outside with his immortal son. Ruby joined them, flipping the hood up on her red jacket as she followed them outside. Archie stood in the doorway, torn between following Ruby and his distaste for the entire situation.

Lacey, having been ignoring the conversation as she tried to get dinner ready, continued to bustle around the kitchen, heating up the lasagna in the now miraculously clean oven. “Archie,” she called out as Queenie meowed under foot. “Can you put five settings out?”

Sighing in relief at having something to do, the red head quickly made short work of it as the lasagna warmed in the oven, the sides heated back up on the stove top and the pie was placed carefully back in the fridge to chill until dessert.

Pouring the dark red Malbec out, having appeared on the counter when DoDo had, Lacey finally looked around and noticed half the dinner party was still missing. “Archie, can you go get them? Dinner’s almost ready and I’m not going through all of this for a third time.”

Unable to give her a proper reason why he couldn’t, Archie gamely went downstairs to fetch the reminder of the party. When he reappeared, Lacey took in the giggling Ruby, the slumping Neal who was leaning against Archie for support and the half lidded eyes and crocodile smile of the Dark One and sighed. “Seriously, guys?”

“I’m starving,” Neal mumbled incoherently, plopping down at the table. Ruby joined him, catching Lacey’s eye and bursting into giggles again. The Dark One simply swaggered over to the head of the table, pulled his chair out and sat himself in it as if nothing at all was amiss.

“You’re stoned,” Lacey said in some jealously at the trio. “Absolutely out of your minds. You were barely gone for thirty minutes!”

“Good stuff,” Neal said, patting his hoodie pocket. “Magically grown weed.”

“Magic,” Ruby sniggered, moving her fingers in an accurate imitation of DoDo. He smiled tightly back at her, and wiggled his fingers back. A few sparks of magic lit his fingertips before fizzling out like firecrackers.

“Want some?” Neal asked, offering Lacey what appeared to be a half smoked blunt. “Kill Joy over here made us come up for dinner before you burned the place down again.”

“Hey!” Archie and Lacey both yelped at the same time.

“Bunch of ingrates,” she grumbled as she sat herself down to dinner. “This is the last time I cook for any of you.” She nudged DoDo’s elbow and he twisted to smile at her, eyes slits in his face as he smiled woozily at her. “You,” she said, trying to bite back a smile. “Should be ashamed of yourself. You’re four centuries old and a magical blunt has you high as a kite.”

Looking up from where he had shoveled half the lasagna into his mouth, DoDo blinked at her owlishly before swallowing. “First time for everything, eh son?”

Neal almost choked on his roll, while Ruby was actually crying from how hard she was laughing. DoDo looked from one to the other, nonplussed and unaware of the tomato sauce smeared across his chin.

Archie didn’t manage to hide his grin, obviously savoring the moment. Lacey for her part couldn’t help but smile back at the demon as she wiped his chin off, dropping the soiled napkin into his lap. “You know,” she told him as she took the offered blunt from Neal. “I don’t know if we have enough food.”

“Gepetto’s?” DoDo offered hopefully, as Ruby agreed enthusiastically.

Archie, shaking his head over his dinner plate as Lacey lit up, quietly contemplated escaping back to his place for the night when a warm hand descended on his shoulder and Ruby held out the now smoking blunt.

For a moment, he just stared at it as the table stared back at him, before he finally plucked it out of the brunette’s hands with a determined, “Oh, to hell with it.”

\--

Around two in the morning, Lacey blinked through the smoke of her apartment to find Archie and Ruby, half asleep in the love seat, Neal eating the left over cold pizza from Gepetto’s and DoDo nowhere to be found.

“Neal,” she managed, sitting upright through the haze. “Where’s your father?”

“Uh,” Neal said through a mouthful of pepperoni. “Isn’t he on the couch?”

“Maybe he went back to the Dark Castle,” Lacey said, leaning back to rest her spinning head on the pillow.

“Yea,” Neal said, “Probably.”

It may have been the magical blunt, but to Lacey, he did not sound as though he wholly believed it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remember, this is a prompt verse, so if you want to see it happen, or want updates, you need to prompt over on Tumblr! (Link in bio)
> 
> Hope you guys enjoyed Lacey's attempts this chapter, as well as the introduction of another character to the party.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: The Morning After

_October 4th, 2015_

Noisy, smoky and reeking of fried onions, the Rabbit Hole’s lounge had little more to offer other than atmosphere and cheap beer. It was continually ranked as Best Dive Bar every year in _The Looking Glass_ ’s annual poll, less of an accolade than a warning. Most people stayed north of town, preferring the traditional Hart & Tortoise Pub or the classier Ballroom Bar.

Personally, Lacey loved it. She felt at home in the basement bar, rough stone fireplace by the pool tables, darts set up near the back door and the large arched mirrors over the bar, reflecting everything back in the dim lighting. Usually, she would sit herself at the bar for a while, then move over to hustling tables or chatting up bachelor parties out for a sport’s night.

At the moment, Lacey was preoccupied with peeling at her beer label. Perched at one of the high top tables near the entrance, Lacey watched the ebb and flow of barely legal young adults replacing the earlier baby boomers of happy hour. Ruby had dragged her here on a Sunday of all nights, for a girl’s talk. Usually, Lacey would have been fine with a Sunday nightcap but she had demonic spawn, half human half demon, immortal New Yorker Neal Cassidy camped on her couch waiting for his father to turn up from wherever he had gotten to last night. Neal had been more than happy to stay put when Ruby had called to demand her company.

At the moment, the tall brunette waitress was half leaned over the bar, indicating a bottle of tequila and two shot glasses. For the most part, Lacey would have preferred a bottle of red wine but she didn’t dare admit that to herself or Ruby. Besides, if she could get Ruby drunk, she may be able to avoid the entire fiasco of explaining herself.

Returning triumphant, holding an entire bottle in one hand and the two shot glasses clinking together in her other, Ruby seemed to have the exact opposite plan. “Now,” she said happily, uncapping the bottle to pour two generous shots. “You were going to tell me about this whole… demon from another dimension situation you have going on right now.”

Smiling brightly as she settled herself in the high chair, Ruby didn’t bother to lower her voice, causing a nearby pool player to shoot her an odd look. Lacey smiled grimly back, throwing the shot back in a desperate bid to buy herself some time.

She heard Ruby following suit as she winced at the sour taste, following up with a chaser of beer. Tequila was an excellent social lubricant but still slightly cloudy from last night’s pass the blunt, Lacey wasn’t feeling her usual self. Ruby’s face was also twisted in a grimace, but she had another two shots poured before Lacey could grab her glass back. “Take it easy, Rubes,” Lacey cautioned, reaching for her shot regardless. “Don’t you have the early shift at the diner tomorrow?”

Shrugging, Ruby tossed the second shot back, this time with merely a pucker of her eyes as she smacked her lips together. Lacey followed her example, slamming the glass down on the table as the liquor coursed down her throat to warm her stomach. A nearby drinker raised his glass to them, catcalling before his party pulled him away. Ruby ignored them, used to the attention from diners but Lacey watched him go with a glare, not in the mood for such attention.

Holding her shot glass firmly, Lacey ignored Ruby’s staring, looking down at her phone as she checked her messages, four from Archie, one from Victor, and two from Will. Of course, she ignored all of them, opting to see if Leroy was going to be able to meet up with them later.

“Earth to Lacey,” came the exasperated voice from across the table. “Hello, anybody home?”

“Jesus,” Lacey grumbled, shooting her friend a look before disappearing back into her phone. “I’m texting Leroy, give me a minute.”

“Does he know?” Ruby pressed, a slight whine audible in her voice. Sighing, Lacey put down the phone, realizing she wasn’t going to get out of this. She made a mental note to text Will back later, if she wasn’t too drunk after this and also to stop by Archie’s in the morning to make sure he was recovering.

“No,” Lacey said with a sigh. “Honestly, Archie was the only one and that’s just because of Pongo.”

Ruby held her hands up, shaking her head. “Wait, you need to start at the beginning.”

Holding her glass out, Lacey let Ruby happily pour her one last shot, throwing it back as she prepared to explain the unexplainable. Starting at the beginning, when Keith Nottingham had assaulted her in the alley just a few feet away and ending at the kitchen table, where the demon had discovered Gepetto’s pizza for the first time.

“And that’s how I got a roommate,” Lacey finished, shrugging as she continued to shred the peeled off beer label. It felt weird to explain out loud, especially in a crowded bar. For some reason, Lacey didn’t even feel right telling Ruby about that night. Archie hadn’t pressed for details, not wanting much to do with the Dark One anyway, he seemed more comfortable with don’t ask, don’t tell policy.

Ruby on the other hand…

“So, what about the morning after? Is that when Archie found out?”

Lacey peered over at her, quizzically. “What morning after?”

Raising one of her perfectly manicured brows, Ruby stared at her like she was an idiot. “The morning after you summoned him of course! I mean- did he sleep on the couch? Did he try to trick you into selling your soul right away or did he like make you pancakes first?”

Lacey gaped as Ruby continued on in a breathless litany of possible situations. It became quickly apparent that Ruby had been thinking about this ever since she had left Lacey’s apartment that morning, still half high and giggling as she walked Archie to his mailbox.

When the musings started t become slightly sexual, Lacey nearly choked on her beer. “Why on earth would we have seen each other naked?” Lacey squawked, trying to avoid any unwanted mental images from springing to mind. “He’s a centuries old demon from the darkest realms of hell, Ruby. Not Prince Charming!”

Ruby gave her a shrug, reaching for the tequila bottle. Lacey nudged her glass out too, deciding the night was already going to hell in a hand basket regardless of her sobriety. “Fine!” Ruby said sullenly. “Well, okay but speaking of guys, who did Mary Margret see you with at the market the other night?”

“That reminds me,” Lacey changed the subject, leaning in. “Did you know she was having an affair with David Nolan?”

Ruby wrinkled her nose at her. “Everyone knows that,” she said dismissively. “Hell, even Kathryn Nolan knows that.” Noticing Lacey’s stunned expression, Ruby let out a low whistle and she leaned in as well. Their elbows brushed against each other, the tequila bottle between their bent heads. “You didn’t know?”

Shaking her head, Lacey admitted her ignorance. With one thing and another, she hadn’t been out as much lately. Apparently, her absences in her usual circles meant she wasn’t staying up to date with the latest gossip. Ruby let out a breathy exclamation, glancing around before continuing,” Well, rumor is Mary Margret only met him because David went down to the school to confront Jim Frederick, you know the gym teacher, about his affair with Kathryn!”

“Wow,” Lacey murmured appreciatively. She had wondered how two of the shyest people in town had managed to fall into a torrid affair but that made sense. She tried to picture Jim Frederick, asking, “Wait, did you go went out with Jim back in college?”

“For like a minute,” Ruby nodded. “But he was too needy, kept asking me where the relationship was going.”

“Still,” Lacey said with a laugh under her breath. “He was pretty cute.”

“God, he had the best abs,” Ruby reminisced. “And remember back then, he had his hair long and that beard?”

Bent on discussing the gym teacher’s attributes, the topic of Lacey’s little secret fell away as they continued to discuss the adultery scandal rocking Storybrooke Elementary.

“Kinda feel bad,” Lacey murmured, somewhere around the third beer and fifth shot. “I kind of called David out for being a cheating bastard, when we ran into them at the store.”

Ruby nonchalantly edged the beer bottle closer to her, asking demurely,” We?”

Any other night, Lacey would have caught herself. But still slightly drained from the night before, she rested her head on her hand and nodded. “Yea, DoDo insisted on coming to the store with me. Ran into Mary Margret and David in frozen food,” Lacey started giggling, remembering their faces when they had turned the corner. “And then he of course had to get in on the fun, introduced himself as Gold-“

“He talked to them?” Ruby interjected, nearly elbowing her empty beer bottle onto the floor. She caught it, stilling it. “Man, I don’t know how more people don’t know about demons, they sure as hell aren’t subtle…”

“He made himself human,” Lacey said, giggling helplessly at the idea of demon DoDo walking around on Main Street. “Though it doesn’t seem to work in mirrors….”

“Wait, back up,” Ruby said, tapping her hand. “He made himself human?”

“Well,” Lacey hedged, her hair swinging back and forth as she swayed in her seat. “He did some kind of mirage or something.”

“Cool. Okay, so tell me about this ‘Gold’. I want to be able to picture him as a human, much less creepy,” Ruby shuddered slightly. Lacey bit her lip as she tried not to continue giggling. Ruby had taken the whole demon roommate as well as could be expected but she had still been wary of him even when the two of them had returned to the dinner table stoned out of their minds thanks to Neal’s magical hash. “Mary Margret said he was older,” Ruby continued. “But she didn’t say much more than that…”

“Silver fox older,” Lacey clarified, remembering the way his shoulder length hair had become silver in the store lights. “Same features but with pale skin and brown eyes, long fingers with square tips and-“

“Oh my god,” Ruby interrupted. “You like him.”

“I do not,” Lacey stuttered, looking at her friend as if she had lost her mind. Few things properly explained her feelings toward the demon currently taking up space in her apartment, ‘like’ was not one of them.

Ignoring this, Ruby had bolted upright in her chair, clasping her hands to her mouth as her eyes widened. Lacey, growing warm, reached over to smack her hands down, stressing,” I do not like him! He’s a demon bent on damning my eternal soul, drinking all my wine and hogging the remote!”

“New boyfriend, sister?”

Twisting too fast, Lacey nearly fell off her stool. Standing just behind her, Leroy managed to push her back upright, shaking his head at her. “Careful,” he grumbled, looking over at Ruby. “How long you two been drinking?”

“Since six,” Ruby chirped, indicating the nearly empty bottle of tequila. Leroy grumbled about lushes, heading over to the bar to get his own pitcher of beer in order to catch up. Lacey watched the shorter man disappear into the crowd at the bar before leaning over the table. Pleased he had made it after all, Lacey decided to use his appearance as a way to stop Ruby’s obsession with her current living situation.

Knowing her limits, Lacey was a very good judge of when too much was too much. Luckily, she was not drunk, simply tired and a little dizzy. Motioning forward, she managed to get Ruby to lean back in, noting the weird way her friend’s lip kept rising up at the corner. “Don’t tell Leroy about the whole DoDo thing,” Lacey said solemnly, nodding emphatically at each word. “He won’t understand.”

“Tell him what?” Ruby asked innocently. “That you have a demon living with you or that you like said demonic roommate?”

“Neither,” Lacey said before stopping, confused. “I mean, that I have a demon in my apartment. Cause I don’t like him.”

“Don’t like who?” Leroy asked, pulling up a high backed chair to join them. Gruff and scruffy, Leroy had a permanent scowl on his face. Despite his tough demeanor, he was unerringly loyal to his friends and had a soft spot only few people got to see. Lacey knew he was good friends with his trivia team, the Hi Hos, and oddly enough, Mary Margret. Apparently, she had joined in at one of their games and became close friends with the seven odd loners.

“Lacey doesn’t want me to tell you about her new boyfriend, Gold,” Ruby said as Lacey groaned.

“Wait, is this the guy Mary Margret saw you with at the market?” Leroy asked, turning to her. “You know,” he gave Lacey a side-glance. “She told me it looked pretty intimate.”

Lacey gaped at him, as Ruby dissolved into laughter. In all the commotion, no one remembered what they had been talking about in the first place.

\--

_April 17, 2015, AKA The Morning After_

Wincing, Lacey gingerly touched her fat lip as she stared at herself in the mirror. Her hair, clumped half in and half out of her pony tail holder, was stuck to the side of her face and her mouth tasted as if something had died in there during the night.

Still, she had no tell tale hangover headache and the bruises on her arm had already faded to tender spots. She stared at her raccoon eyes; tear tracks evident through the ruins of her makeup.

Her dreams had been odd, full of fire, ash and blood and a high-pitched voice-

“I was wondering if you were ever going to wake up.”

In the mirror of the sink, Lacey moved her head ever so slightly to see the scaled monstrosity lurking in the bathroom doorway. The creature was staring at her in distaste, plucking at his own collar as to make sure her dishabille was not catching. The events of last night flooded back to her as if they had been waiting behind a curtain for their cue.

“You’re real then?”

A roll of eyes at this as he gestured grandiosely,” We covered this last night. I am the Dark One, ruler of all the Dark Realms and you,” he flicked a finger at her. “Summoned me with the price of blood, tears and fire. I am yours to command.”

Something niggled at her the back of mind and Lacey turned until she could lean her aching forearms against her sink. The thing had on tight leather pants, and it made him stand wide legged, taking up more room and his size suggested possible.

“So, you’ll do whatever I say?”

He nodded, eyes flashing as they swept down to the floor. He stayed like that, head bowed as she watched him warily. Lacey, knowing she was clad only in an over sized t-shirt and little else, felt utterly at a loss for words.

“Well, I want to shower so if you could just… wait.”

“Wait?”

“Yea, I need to…shower,” Lacey said lamely, feeling the prickly sensation of ghost hands enclosing her wrists, pawing at her breasts and clawing at the inside of her thighs.

Golden eyes narrowed as he smiled a crocodile grin at her. “Perhaps you would like me to revenge you on the worm that attacked you? Turn him into a slug? Or curse him to the Arctic Circle perhaps?”

Lacey blinked dully at him, finally shaking her head. Her head felt woozy, full of cobwebs but she knew one thing perfectly well. “I’ll deal with that bastard on my own,” she said grimly, shuddering despite herself. “First, I want a shower. You’re free to go.”

“Not until we conclude our deal, dearie,” the Dark One giggled, rubbing his hands together. “Now, perhaps we could do something more along the lines of fame and fortune?”

Lacey, realizing this was going to continue for some time, made her decision as he rambled. Without hesitation, she pulled her shirt over her head as she stumbled over to the shower. The sputtering of the pipes barely drowned out the sputtering’s of the Dark One as he stood rooted awkwardly in the doorway.

“Are you going to just stand there or-?”

Without further word, the Dark One disappeared from the doorway, leaving Lacey to her shower. She thought she heard the door at one point, but when it did not repeat, she thought it was her imagination.

When she would stumble out of the shower an hour later, shivering slightly despite the odd April heat, she would find the Dark One sitting on her couch, looking rather pleased with himself.

“Did I hear the door?” She asked, plopping down on her bed as she drew her robe closer around her.

“Can’t say that you did,” he said blandly, but a smile lurked at the corners of his mouth. From there, the conversation delved into deals, and souls, and other arguments and Lacey forgot about the knocking.

But the next morning, rumor around town was a certain Keith Nottingham had developed a rather arcane disease and local doctors were baffled. He was sent to Boston for treatment and ended up moving there. Lacey never asked if the Dark One had a hand in this but whenever the topic was broached, DoDo never could resist flashing one of his trademark crocodile grins.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well.... I'm sure the lovely anon who sent this message in wanted the morning after the Blunt incident but.... someone else sent in a slightly more specific prompt and I decided to have a little fun with this one.
> 
> Plus, we get to meet Leroy! Man, Storybrooke is getting crowded!


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Queenie has a plan.

_October 6th, 2015_

From time to time, Kuningatar mused on her past lives. The first of course had been as a lynx in the wilds of the Arctic. She had taken her name from the hushed whispers of the humans at hunt, well aware of her power and grace and giving her the reverence due to her.

The second had been short lived, a nameless mouse catcher on a ship that had gone down at sea. Still to this day, she hated the water and yet was drawn to it. The sound of waves calmed her, kept her mind at peace. The moment rain fell though, or at the dreaded word bath, Kuningatar lost her usual poise, turning into a spitting hellion.

The third had been longer. Born as a purebred Persian to some rich shut in, she had lived in the lap of luxury in the cooler climates of the northern lakes. She had enjoyed that life despite it's ease, although being called Poopsie had been enough to drive her to scratch and hiss.

The fourth had ended before it began, and the fifth had brought her to a witch who had known her by her true name. It was in that life that Kuningatar had learned of the rules of her species. Cats were the guardians of the gate of the underworld, watching for those with the power to cross it and lead them in their quest to harness their powers. Also, they were to watch for those who had the power to break free, demons who would inflict misery and grief for their own pleasures and pains. So, when Kuningatar had met the demon in her sixth life, she had known fate had not been fickle.

Although, Queenie, honestly. The demon had a terrible sense of humor, naming her Queenie despite knowing her true name and it’s meaning. The mistress could be excused, mortals were prone to flights of fancy after all but he had been the one to name her with such a degrading bastardization of her true name.

Descending from the window ledge, she sidestepped the numerous empty bottles littering the counter and landed effortlessly on the floor. Her grace and poise were hard won despite the loss of her tail and she took pleasure in her own cleverness. With another neat movement, a twist of her rear haunches, she landed neatly upon the floor.

Ignoring the half full bowl of gunk her mistress seemed to find acceptable as food, she opted instead to explore the various treasures of the large shiny cylinder object that smelled of fish and chemicals.

Settling down before it, she licked her whiskers, cocking her head side from side as she gazed at her own image mirrored back to her. As odd this new haven was from her usual haunts and rests, Kuningatar did enjoy the challenges. With a well-aimed pounce, she landed squarely upon the cylindrical object, causing it to creak ominously beneath her.

With a self-pleased purr, Kuningatar leveraged her front paws upon the wall behind the object, using her back legs to dislodge the lid. It was not always effective depending on if her mistress was the last one to take out the trash or the dog man. He, Kuningatar did not care for at all. Nor was she overly fond of his new mate, but that was another story.

Intent on her prize, Kuningatar almost missed the imperceptible shift in the air. Almost. She had not gone entirely soft in her new found home. Going limp, she dropped back to the floor, peering around the cylindrical object to stare innocently up at her master.

He looked nonplussed, staring down at her with his lips curled over his own sharp teeth. Kuningatar purred at the sight of him, trotting out to curl herself around his ankles. Truly shocking behavior from a familiar, but her master was no typical demon. The rules could be bent in his case. A curse after all did not make a true demon.

“Enough of that,” Master snapped, raising first one boot than the other. He looked about the space, obviously looking for their mistress and huffing irritability when he realized she was gone. He shuffled off to the kitchen, where he picked up some kind of paper, reading it with a furrow in his brow. Kuningatar followed him, making it easily up to the raised surface off the floor where the humans ate. She curled her phantom tail around her as she sat, watching him intently.

Truly a curious master for a cat, but few felines had any interest in demons. Preferred mortals, who slow though they may be, were usually very amenable. Demons on the other hand, demons were reckless with their familiars.

Realizing she was watching him, her master snapped his fingers and a burst of foul magic sprang from his fingers. Yowling, Kuningatar fell to the floor, hissing slightly in reprimand before slinking off to the mistress’s retreat.

“She’ll skin you if she finds you made a nest of her black clothes again,” came the unhelpful drone of Master. Kuningatar ignored him, kneading her preferred items into a lump before settling herself down among them. She preferred the darker tones; they matched her right half nicely. Her left half, bright creams and oranges with swirls of brown, was hopeless and she flipped a long soft garment over her head, so only her eyes shone out. “Have it your way,” Master said nastily but he rubbed his fingers together idly, as if the magic wanted to have its say.

Mistress had gone out that morning with Master’s offspring. Out for rest of the day if the size of gunk she had put in her food bowl meant anything. Master noticed it too, wrinkling his nose as he nudged it with his booted toe.

“More of this poison?” He asked the air, but Kuningatar knew he spoke to her. With a soft meow, she let him know she agreed with his sentiments. He glanced over at her. “I should let you starve,” he said conversationally. “Lucky for you, she doesn’t know the rules governing you and I.”

Rippling her back, Kuningatar regarded him neutrally. Demons, even the cursed ones, were as a rule, unpredictable. This one especially had an odd sense of humor. When he had appeared in her cave haven, his mistress hissing and snarling like a fellow feline in heat, Kuningatar had been taken by their oddness.

When they had disappeared, she had followed the scent of the mistress, finding her to be wholly ignorant of her lineage. A witch living as a mortal was shameful as it was, but to be associating with a demon as well? Kuningatar had decided she was needed here and made herself at home. She did miss the nights roaming the streets and beaches but Mistress did occasionally bring some delicacies home to share. It made up for the hated box she was forced to use like some kind of trained pet.

Despite the rules, silly things about magical repression and banishment to the underworld, Kuningatar liked her demon. As he continued to mutter and groan about her presence, more upset about missing his offspring and his mistress than her continued presence, he flipped the cylindrical object open before he disappeared from the four walls.

Purring, Kuningatar decided to wait for a bit before she went in search of supper. Mistress wouldn’t be home until the sunset and Master would probably wait until then to try back. She remembered Master’s offspring had eaten something with chicken for his early meal, and wondered if she should drag that out or go hunting first.

All in all, her little plan was going better than expected. Plus, she rather liked this odd pack she had found here. She could be excused if she didn’t help nudge mistress along quite yet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you guys enjoyed this little chapter from Kuningatar perspective! If not, take it up with her. 
> 
> Curious how to pronounce her name? Check this out: http://www.collinsdictionary.com/dictionary/english-thesaurus/queen


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Where did DoDo go after getting high with everyone?

_October 6th, 2015_

At approximately eleven twenty one in the evening, Lacey and Neal fell into her apartment, both laughing hysterically as they clutched at one another to keep upright. "Your face-“ Neal sputtered, eyes clenched shut as he doubled into two.

“Me? What about you- You-“ Lacey stammered through her own laughter as she tried to be understood despite her inability to stop laughing. She managed to peel her pea coat off her frame, flinging it on the table. Neal fell into an empty chair, disturbing Queenie who had been asleep underneath it.

As both of them watched the chimera cat streak out from under the table, pulling the pea coat with her until it was just a ball of navy making yowling cat noises as it bumped into the back of the couch. This sent them both back into peals of laughter, Lacey grabbing for the coat even as Queenie twisted and raged inside it. “Hold on,” she admonished as she tried to get the cats claws detangled from the sleeve even as she shook with laughter. “Hold on, Queenie, I’m trying-“

As soon as she was able to free Queenie from the fabric, she slung it on the back of the couch as the cat slunk off to the bed. Neal had managed to get his hysteria under control at this point, snickering occasionally as he flipped through his phone. Grabbing for the nearest bottle of wine, Lacey unscrewed the cap as she brought it to the table. “God, I haven’t had that much innocent fun in ages,” Lacey admitted, wiping some of the running mascara off her face. “I didn’t even know Salem was still there!”

Neal cracked a grin at her as he took the offered wine bottle. “Told you it would be fun.”

“What was so _fun_?”

Lacey let her head roll back to glance at the now looming figure of the demon currently in residence. “Hey DoDo! There you are!”

“Papa!” Neal greeted, saluting him with the wine bottle. “We were worried about you.”

The Dark One raised a brow in silent mockery of this statement, unconvinced. Lacey reached for the bottle, holding it up to her roommate with a smile. “Neal took me to Salem,” she told him. “Thought we might spend the day telling the charlatans from the real witches.”

A grumbled response about plebeians was her answer as he waved the wine away with another under his breath comment about screw tops. Queenie had not come out at his arrival and Lacey peered around him to see if she had eaten any of her food. “The fuck,” Lacey groaned, standing up, all humor lost from her voice as she saw the shredded paper and the trash lid on the floor. “How does that damn cat keep getting into the trash?”

“No idea,” DoDo murmured, sliding into her chair across from his son as she began to clean up the mess. Lacey, grumbling as she thought about the various ways she could wreck revenge on both her cat and her roommate, missed Neal’s silent admonition of his father, having recognized the tell tale signature of his father’s sense of humor.

When she finally finished, she came back to the table, settling down on one of the mismatched chairs and plucking the wine from Neal’s hand. It was nearly empty already, though neither man seemed worse for wear. “Get your own,” she retorted brazenly when DoDo reached for it. He wrinkled his nose at her but a new bottle appeared on the table moments later.

“And how was the charlatans?” He asked blandly, uncorking the bottle with his talon claws. “Up to their old tricks?”

Lacey let Neal tell him about the first few places they went. It had been rather spur of the moment. Neal had suggested a day trip to Boston but on the train they had seen the Salem station and Lacey had insisted on stopping for a moment. One thing led to the other, and they had gone to nearly every single teashop, witch’s den and parlor room that proclaimed to be a fortuneteller.

“Remember Maleficent?” Neal said and Lacey turned to see his father bristle.

“That old dragon? What is she doing in the New World?”

Puzzled, Lacey tried to remember a Maleficent, and failing turned to Neal. “Wait, who?”

“Mal,” Neal reminded her. “Blonde, German woman- come on, you remember, you spent nearly thirty minutes in there with her.“

Lacey didn’t need to be reminded further. She fell silent, waving a hand at Neal to indicate she remembered before helping herself to the remainder of the wine. When she finished, she found DoDo grinning wickedly at her. “And what did dear old Maleficent have to say?” He pondered, more to himself than to the table.

“None of your business,” Lacey said, fixing Neal with a warning glare. He held his hands up, leaning back in his chair with a smirk.

“Spoil sport,” DoDo sang, shimmying his shoulders.

“You’re in a rare mood,” Lacey noted, attempting to switch the conversation off the eerie memory of Mal’s tearoom in Salem. “Where did you disappear off too last night?

“Why, not that it's any of your business but.. I visited the Toll Bridge!” Neal and Lacey exchanged a confused look as DoDo clapped his hand together before him. “Where did you think I went? The moon?” He asked them, cackling at his own wit.

Trying to think why on Earth the demon would go to the old bridge, Lacey couldn't think of anything. So, she asked him, “Why? Exactly?"

“Why?” DoDo looked at her as if she had sprung another head. With a look at his son, he shrugged his shoulders. “If you don’t know by now, I don’t see how I can possibly explain it to you.“

Neal stood, stretching his arms overhead as Lacey continued to press and needle her roommate about his whereabouts. Neither paid much attention as Neal went to the fridge, rooted about a bit and then began to pull out leftovers from the dinner party.

“You shouldn’t be going out in the real world!”

“It was nearly three in the morning, did you think I’d run into the milk man on my way there?”

“High off your ass-“

“I was not high, I was under the magical influence of a potion!”

“You were blazed, and you know it. You could barely look at anybody without winking.”

“If you didn’t get the joke-“

“Dinner?” Neal interrupted, just as the smell of re-baked lasagna began to fill the air. Even Queenie peered out from underneath the bed, making small interested noises.

Raising a hand in distaste, the Dark One sniffed,” I wouldn’t eat that again if I were about to starve to death. It’s almost as bad as this one’s cooking.”

“This one,” Lacey reminded him, snagging the wine glass from underneath him. “Would like nothing less than to see you gone once and for all.”

A snarl of exposed teeth and a growl made Neal turn around, wielding a spatula like a sword. “Careful, Papa,” he warned. “You don’t know what Mal might have told her.”

The Dark One opened his mouth but then let it fall shut, glancing wounded at his offspring as he folded his arms over his chest. Slightly bewildered, Lacey took a swig of the wine, trying to rack her brain for what Neal might have been trying to warn his father.

The blonde German had been more interested in Lacey than anyone else in her life, asking her pointed questions about her health and family. She hadn’t said much about her future or her relationships but she didn’t feel the need to explain that to either of the immortals in her kitchen. It had mostly been innuendo and incomprehensible phrases muttered in between peering at her palm and gazing into a crystal ball.

As Neal finished heating up dinner, he brought their plates to the table. As he and Lacey began to split the left overs, the Dark One simply prattered on about witches of old, including the ways they had burned them.

After they had put the dishes up, conversation began to ebb away. Neal yawned, announcing, “Think I’m going to turn in for the night.” He gestured towards the couch where a blanket and a pillow were neatly folded.

“Now?” Lacey whined, still high on the adventures of the day and the wine she had been drinking since they had gotten home. “But it's not even late yet.“

“Have Papa take you to the Toll Bridge,” Neal suggested with a shrug. “He obviously thought it interesting enough to go in the middle of the night.”

Sputtering, his father raised his hands to his chest as if to say, ‘Who? Me?’

Lacey ignored this, slumping down to put her head on her arms as she stared up at Neal forlornly. “But you’re going home tomorrow,” she grumbled. “And then I’m stuck with your father for the rest of my natural born life.”

“Charmed,” DoDo quipped, snagging the wine back from her. Neal, not swayed by her protests, said his goodnights as Lacey sighed and made her own way to the bathroom.

“Fine, I’m going to just take a bath and watch Happy Endings,” she told them both.

Brightening, the Dark One opened his mouth but Lacey, without even turning, muttered, “Don’t you spoil who the real father is!” Grabbing her laptop off her bed, she closed the door firmly in the faces of the immortal men.

“She’s on season two,” the Dark One informed his son. “Though she’s already seen of all of season five-“

“Are you magically pirating again?” Neal asked, disbelief in his voice. “Papa, we talked about that-“

As the two bickered over the rights and wrongs of magic use in the legal sense, Lacey settled into her bathtub, wine glass in hand and laptop queued. Putting the ear buds in, she started the episode, hoping to forget all about toll bridges, demons, and witchcraft.

If only the German accented voice in her head would stop whispering, “And the price to be paid will be taken at the toll road.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since a few people have asked, I am in the middle of a Dark-a-thon where I am trying to write a prompt a day for House Guest until the end of October. (Weekends will update either The Gate or The Story Teller). So buckle in guys, we should have a hell of a ride this month.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- Lacey has a naughty dream about Gold/DoDo. -

_October 7th, 2015_

The sensation of need and want are nearly identical in desire. She needed him. She wanted him; it made no difference. If she didn’t have him, she would die of necessity and if she didn’t want him, none of this would be happening.

Grasping for him, she racked her fingers across his back as she writhed underneath his ministrations. His low chuckle fanned the flame burning in her veins, a reminder that he was in control here and they both knew it. In an attempt to win it back, she drew blood with her nails. Love was war.

In retaliation or reward, he pressed himself against her, sliding madding along her center as he whispered to her all the things he planned to do to her. Lacey’s head twisted and shook as her body, traitorous thing, mutinied and gave itself over to him.

His hands went to her breasts, squeezing and rolling them as he thrust his hips teasingly against hers, refusing to give her what she wanted until she pleaded for it.

Lacey refused. She did not beg. They begged her.

With another whisper, his head descended until he was bruising her neck with his mouth, biting and sucking until the heat rising in Lacey’s body became too much for her to bear. She felt her hips rise up on their own volition, a silent plea, a proud woman’s last charge-

Those hands, long fingered and deft, traced down her ribs until they held her hips firmly beneath his. He traced patterns and runes into her skin as if marking her in ways no one but they could see. “Lacey,” he groaned, his voice betraying him as it shook with his own desperation.

Reaching down, Lacey twisted her head to him, mouth opening to smile or bite. He leaned down to capture her mouth with his own, and she forgot her battle plan. Her hand clasped over him, hard and soft. In her grip, he was hot and ready, burning hotter than the fire crackling in the mantle beside the bed.

As they dueled for dominance with their kiss, his hand moved from her hips to her hair, letting her stroke him as she panted against his mouth, Lacey wasn’t sure who was winning or losing this battle. A truce, then, Lacey decided, guiding him to her entrance. Without further hesitation, he pushed in, uttering a guttural noise as he stilled inside her.

His hand curling around the back of her neck tightened until she was forced to look straight up in his eyes. Dark brown, shadowed by silver hair slowly turned until it was the amber serpent eyes gleaming down at her, half hooded. It was scaled golden skin that rubbed against her own pale flesh as he moved over her, drawing forward her own cries as he brought her higher and higher to the crest of the battle.

“Mine,” he whispered down at her as his talons dug into her scalp, tingling down to her toes and building the pressing need that was beginning to overwhelm her.

“Mine,” Lacey growled back, arching her hips as he thrust and causing him to move harder, faster as they both raced headlong to their mutual destruction. Sensation took them both now, the slap of skin against scales, the need spiraling dangerously into oblivion as they clutched at each other to hold themselves there in the moment.

It was the spark of the fireplace that captured Lacey’s attention, the blood of his back dripping from her fingertips mingling with their sweat as the ash floated forth into their joining.

It was then the world exploded into sensation and Lacey woke up with a gasp.

Her heart was racing, and her breathing shallow as it began to adjust to her awakening. The apartment was still dark, the few embers of the fire Neal had made while she had been in the bath the night before were feeble but one or two crackled in their death throes. Lacey stared into the embers, knowing one of those cracking noises had probably woken her from that dream.

That dream….

Slowly, she let herself lay back down, staring at the clock on her makeshift bedside table which read quarter past six. She could fairly make out the lump on the couch that indicated Neal was still fast asleep and she closed her eyes in relieved gratitude that she hadn’t called out her in sleep.

Still.

Lacey tried to adjust herself, but there was no help for it. Her body, caught up in her sick twisted mind, was aroused as if she had actually been in the middle of a brilliant fuck. Squeezing her eyes shut tighter, she tried to ignore the flushed and swollen tender spot between her legs. She laid on her side, hands gipping the pillows as tight as she could as she reminded herself Neal was just feet away.

She could go to the bathroom, turn the shower on and rub one out but even as she considered it, she blanched. She had been having a perfectly normal wet dream until her subconscious had decided to be an asshole. Her usual mystery lover, faceless by the time she woke in the morning, had somehow twisted into a sexier version of Gold. She hadn’t even realized it in the course of the dream but then…then things had gotten weird.

Hoping to hell, that her demonic roommate did not have the power to read minds, enter dreams or in any way ever learn about that, Lacey tried to go back to sleep, ignoring her body as best she could. She knew perfectly well that if she did manage to get some sleep she would wake up, prickly, anxious and in need of a good fuck.

Hell, she hadn’t had sex since April, no wonder her mind was screwing with her. As she mused it over, it became perfectly clear that her brain had inserted DoDo in her dream because he was the reason she hadn’t had sex in over six months. Her new roommate meant she didn’t get to have anyone over anymore. Not unless it was Archie, Neal, or now Ruby who had all learned about DoDo in one-way or the other.

Flipping the pillow over to get the cool side, Lacey let her feet poke out from underneath the comforter. The room was chilly except for the warmth near the floor from the fire but it felt good against her fevered skin. Twitching her shoulder into a more comfortable position, Lacey stared at the lump that was Neal.

He wasn’t a terrible looking guy. Scruffy, perhaps but he was immortal. Surely he knew a few things? But he was also the son of the Dark One. Her libido cooled slightly as she considered his prone form and Lacey flopped over to face the wall, the small window showing just a little of ambient light from the night outside.

Archie then? It wasn’t as if she had never considered it. Especially when he got flustered enough to raise his voice ever so slightly, jaw setting as he made a decision or the way his lips looked when he was sleepy.

Lacey wrinkled her nose as she clutched her legs tighter to her stomach. Possible but not likely, Archie would probably blush like a cherry tomato if she came on to him and then what? Plus, he had that ridiculous crush on Ruby, and he was a gentleman. No, Archie was probably out of the question too. And Ruby wasn’t an option either, knowing her friend preferred men exclusively.

“Damn, damn, damn,” Lacey muttered to herself as she flopped onto her back and stared at the ceiling. She had at least thirty minutes until dawn. She couldn’t watch TV without waking Neal and she had no idea where she left her power cord for her laptop. Deciding to kill the time playing a game on her phone, Lacey reached over to her nightstand, but in the dark she missed. Her phone skittered off the side, crashing to the floor with a thud.

Before Lacey could grab for it, Neal’s voice, half asleep and half exasperated, groaned,” For Christ’s sake, Lacey, go take a cold shower or something.”

Throwing a pillow at the couch, Lacey curled back in to the fetal position, flipping her comforter over her head as she ignored the soft chuckle from the couch. Scowling fiercely, she clutched her arms tight around her pillow and tried to go back to sleep, hoping like hell her brain wouldn’t revisit that last nightmare.

And first thing in the morning, she was telling Neal to find somewhere else to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well all, the rating of the House Guest just went up to M. All thanks to Nevermore's prompt! 
> 
> Let me know what you guys think about this chapter, I love hearing from you and you guys have such great ideas and insight to this story! See you Monday!


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Neal arrives to his apt back in NYC to find that his dad has raided his fridge and rearranged things...

_October 10th, 2015_

Fumbling for the light switch, Neal juggled his keys, cell phone, six pack from the bodega and take out from the down stair deli as he kicked the door shut behind him. When the light failed to come on, he jiggled the switch a bit to no avail before giving up. He’d have to change the bulb in the morning. A faint light from the windows hinted at the darkening sky as New York City glowed to neon life outside.

Neal let his duffel bag fall off his shoulder to the floor below as he made his way through the cluttered mess of his living room, navigating by memory instead of sight. Popping open a beer, he fell back onto the couch, with a glance at his phone which showed it was barely quarter to seven. He toed his shoes off as he grabbed for the remote, releasing a sigh of relief to be home. It wasn’t until he looked up at the screen that he realized his television set was gone.

“The hell?” Neal asked the empty apartment, shooting to his feet as his mind immediately went to some kind of armed robbery common even in the streets of Little Italy. Except thieves often did not replace stolen goods with artwork.

Hung proudly where the television had been, there was a tapestry, The Lady and the Unicorn to be specific, if Neal remembered his art history. The fabric had glowed in the light coming in from the blinds, which perhaps explained why he had mistaken it for a television screen at first.

Flipping on his phone’s built in light, Neal surveyed the apartment. The new artwork wasn’t the only change. His speaker system, an impromptu purchase back in the seventies had disappeared. In its place stood a marble statue, the Discobolus bronze, believed lost by most art historians.

It got worse.

His collection of old cameras, microphones and various 8 tracks had all vanished, an ancient harpsichord stood gleaming proudly where they had been shelved. Even his record collection that had been proudly displayed by the front door was gone, replaced by what appeared to be sheet music, yellowing slightly from age and wear.

“Papa,” Neal grumbled, moving towards his bedroom. Sure enough, as soon as the door swung open, his twin bed and pillow top mattress were gone. Replaced by some horrid four-posted monstrosity that brought back memories of his boyhood in medieval Europe. It smelled like his boyhood as well, goose feather stuffed mattress in all like hood.

His prided collection of old electronics was missing. Instead, glistening golden candlesticks lined an ancient table. Even his window unit was missing, replaced by a full working fireplace, complete with stone hearth. Neal didn’t bother checking his bathroom. He knew he’d find a chamber pot and little else.

Fishing his cell phone out of his pocket, he snapped a photo of his altered bedroom to Lacey, with the caption, “At least he hasn’t redecorated your apartment.”

Before long, an answering text chimed back, a simple crying laughing emoji and nothing else. He shook his head, closing the phone and slipping it back in his jean pocket. His closet, once full of hoodies, t-shirts and jeans, now had some doublets and breeches and he didn’t care to investigate his sock drawer.

He shuffled back into the main area, noticing the couch, once a lazy boy supreme from the nineties was indeed a fainting couch from regency times and the matching loveseat now was a wing-backed chair. Luckily, his kitchen still looked normal, his stovetop and counters, still rejects from the fifties. He opened the fridge, already knowing his father’s sense of humor wouldn’t have spared the contents of his bachelor staples.

A dead pheasant and a pig’s head regarded him from their respective shelves, that and what Neal assumed was custard tucked in the very back. A nice touch, he thought fondly. It had been his favorite treat when he was a boy, obviously his father had remembered. Shaking his head, Neal let the door swing closed as he fumbled for his take out on the counter.

At least his father had spared the books, Neal thought with a grimace as he passed his teeming bookshelf. Most of them were first editions of classics, although it appeared the Gutenberg Bible had replaced his Harry Potter collection.

Fifteen minutes later, Neal sat on the fainting couch, surrounded by wax candles as they flickered in the semi darkness as he ate his dinner while staring bemusedly at the ancient tapestry. “Nice try, Papa,” he murmured through bites of his Rueben. “I can live like a monk for a night, as if I didn’t live through this-“

He didn’t finish. As the smoke from the candles finally reached the still working fire alarm, Neal found himself suddenly soaked as the ancient but still effective sprinkler system kicked to life as the alarm began to wail.

It would take four hours of explaining to the fire department what had happened to his bathroom before the cops came. Eight hours of sitting in an interrogation room as he explained to the police that he hadn’t stolen any of the priceless works of arts, some now ruined and then finally back home to a still soggy mess of an apartment to find his landlord waiting for him with an eviction notice.

It looked like he was going back to Storybrooke sooner than he had expected.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Monday! Sorry for the late update, life got in the way today.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Truth or Dare

_October 13, 2015_

“You have to leave.”

Standing directly in front of the television screen, Lacey crossed her arms formidably. Her roommate simply craned his head to look around her, turning up the volume to better hear what he couldn’t see.

“DoDo!” Lacey groaned, reaching over to snag the remote. The demonic pain in the ass hissed at her, raising the remote over the back of the couch. Lacey grabbed for it, nearly toppling over the sad excuse for a coffee table pallet before straightening in indignation. “Come on, I told you I’m having people over tonight.”

Taking his attention from the reality show where someone seemed to be crying about some personal tragedy, he regarded her suspiciously. “Not Master Hopper or Mistress Lucas?”

“You can call them Archie and Ruby, you know,” Lacey reminded him as she swept towards the kitchen. The counters were clean for once, only the wine bottles for the evening were left. Ruby was bringing food from the diner and Mary Margret had offered to bring dessert. Ariel had promised she would try to come but Lacey privately doubted she’d be willing to tear herself away from Eric for more than ten minutes. “Ruby is coming over with some other girls for a Halloween movie night.”

“Surely you’re joking?”

Ignoring him, Lacey checked the clock as she fumbled in the drawers for the wine cork. She had cleaned that morning, sorting and organizing things that hadn’t been put away since she had bought them. DoDo had been mercifully absent up until just after lunchtime but he showed little sign of moving at the moment.

Lacey caught sight of her reflection in the dark window over the sink and she paused to fix her hair, pushing her bangs behind her ear before fixing the odd smudge of mascara that had migrated to her left cheek. “Come on,” she whined. “They’ll be here any second and I’m not in the mood to explain the whole demons are real phenomena this evening.”

“Ridiculous,” he snorted, putting an arm over the couch’s back as he watched her move about the kitchen. “Watching make believe about witches and ghosts when you could have the real thing.”

Lacey laughed under her breath, “Says the demon obsessed with cable.”

“Television,” he said stiffly. “Is the new cinema.”

The sound of boots upon the stairs alerted them to the arrival of one of the guests. Lacey moved to the front door, pulling her black dress down and checking to make sure nothing had stained it in the last few minutes.

“What are you supposed to be anyways?” DoDo asked dully. “Some widow?”

“I’m a witch,” Lacey purred, grabbing for a hat that was hanging by the door. Perching it on her head, she sent him a cheeky smile over her shoulder. “Can’t you tell?”

He looked disinterested, shaking his head as he shot back,” Not much of a costume.”

“Do you ever stop with the asshole commentary?” Lacey asked him, as she pulled the door open to reveal the hallway. She stuck her head out, saying in relief,” Oh, good it’s just you, Ruby.”

“Oh, yea, just me,” said Ruby drily as she pushed Lacey back into the apartment. Dressed as a wolf, she had a tail dangling enticingly from her leggings and a fur hoodie with ears stitched on to it. She had painted her nose to look like a snout; drawn on whiskers and dark eye shadow made her face look leaner than usual. She bared her teeth, fake canines giving her fangs in a smile. “Me and the food you didn’t pay for. Hey, DoDo.”

“The Dark One,” the demon growled from his perch on the couch. “My name is not-“

“He’s leaving right?” Ruby asked Lacey, effectively ending the Dark One’s hissy fit. “It’s supposed to be girl’s night.”

“I beg your pardon-“

“DoDo!” Lacey groaned, taking the food from Ruby and setting it on the counter. “I’m begging you, just take one night off. It’s Tuesday for god’s sake.”

He regarded her sullenly from the couch, eyes narrowed as he considered his options. Ruby watched this exchange in some interest as she helped herself to a glass of wine. “Remote is mine for the week,” he finally suggested. “And that infernal cat has to go.”

Queenie, washing her paws on the bed, meowed questioning when she heard her name. Ruby made a noise of agreement into her glass. Lacey frowned at the two of them. “I’m not getting rid of Queenie,” she told them as she moved to scoop up the feline. Not entirely pleased at this, Queenie yowled unhappily but consented to the manhandling. “You get the remote for a week and I’ll order Gepetto’s pizza twice this week.”

“Sure about the cat?” He inquired hopefully. She glared at him until he shrugged in resignation. “Worth a try.”

A noise from the hallway alerted the trio to a new arrival. Murmured conversation and then the door swung open as Ariel barreled into the studio apartment, trailed by a visibly anxious Mary Margret. Ariel, dressed in a skintight emerald green maxi skirt that flared out at the very bottom and a bedazzled bikini top, nearly tripped as she rushed in from the cold.

Unaware of Ruby and Lacey’s frozen faces, Ariel made a beeline to the table, dropping off her oversized tote onto a chair as she squealed,” Girls! I’m so excited for movie night! I brought all my Halloween movies and Eric let me borrow his blue ray player in case you didn’t have one-“ She paused, noticing Ruby and Lacey hadn’t moved from their positions. “Oh, hey! I didn’t know you got a cat!”

“I think that’s my cue to leave.”

Ariel made an audible noise of surprise as a silver haired man stood up from the couch leisurely. Lacey felt her mouth drop open slightly as Queenie began to squirm in her now too tight grip. She let the cat drop back down onto the bed as the man maneuvered around the couch towards where Ariel stood.

“Sorry to linger,” he said charmingly. “I was just catching up with Miss Lucas.”

“Lacey,” Ariel asked, not taking her eyes off the older man. “Who is this?”

“Gold,” he answered before Lacey could find her tongue. He held out his hand. “You must be Miss Benton?”

Nodding wordlessly, Ariel held her hand out limply, letting him take it. He bent over it to press a chaste kiss upon it, straightening back up with a disarming smile. Ariel made an odd strangled noise before looking towards Lacey with a raised eyebrow.

Turning, he noticed Mary Margret, still frozen in the doorway. Wearing an old bridesmaid dress with a full skirt of taffeta, she had a tiara nestled in her short black hair, which declared her a princess. The schoolteacher clutched her homemade dessert in front of her like a shield. Lacey noticed the way DoDo’s eyes lit up at the sight of a previous victim of his humor and she quickly moved to intercept him. “And Mary Margret, you remember Gold?”

Judging by the way she steadily avoided his gaze, she did all too well. With a betrayed glare at Ruby, she nodded. “Nice to see you again,” she said curtly.

“Gold was just leaving,” Lacey said before DoDo could say anything further. “Weren’t you?”

“Ah,” he said with a nod. “So, I was. Well, you ladies enjoy yourselves.” He nodded to each of them in turn, when he got to Ruby she smiled wolfishly at him, a smile he was only happy to return. Lacey glared at him as he turned to her with the same smile still in place. “I’ll see you later tonight?”

“Maybe,” Lacey simpered through gritted teeth. “Bye bye now.”

With one last mocking smile at her, Gold made his way to the front door. Mary Margret stepped out his way hurriedly, shooting him a dirty look as he brushed past her. A moment later, the door clicked behind him and he was gone.

Lacey released the breath she was holding, just as the room erupted into a million questions.

“You didn’t tell me you had a boyfriend!”

“You said silver fox but you never said hot!”

“You said we couldn’t bring boys!”

“How come you haven’t fucked him to oblivion and back yet?”

“Are you in love?”

“Does he have a brother?”

“What’s your cat’s name?”

Glancing through the tag team of Ariel and Ruby, Lacey noticed Queenie purring blissfully in Mary Margret’s arms. Shooting Ruby a warning glare, Lacey managed to steer Ariel back towards the kitchen. “Her name’s Queenie,” she told them both. “Found her in the cave on the beach and she followed me home.”

“She’s beautiful,” Mary Margret said, scratching behind one of Queenie’s ears. The chimera cat purred louder, pressing her head against the women’s chin.

“Yea, sure,” Lacey said sarcastically. “My no tail, half black, half calico cat with two different eyes is beautiful. I’ll be sure to remember that.”

Not one to let go of a good looking man, Ariel sighed dramatically ash she grabbed for a wine glass. “He’s so sensual! How come you didn’t tell me about him?”

“I haven’t seen you in four months,” Lacey reminded the redhead as she fixed her witch’s hat on her head. “Ever since you met Eric at the Dock Party.”

Ariel had the grace to look sheepish, shrugging her shoulders. “You could still text me, you know.”

“Yea,” Ruby said, angling in to get a refill. “Or taken a picture or two.”

Mary Margret had migrated to the kitchen, letting Queenie down onto the table to take the wine Ruby offered her. Lacey, in an attempt to navigate the conversation away from her roommate’s mortal disguise, fixed the newcomer with a bright smile. “I’m glad you could make it, Mary Margret,” Lacey attempted.

The other woman gave her an odd look but nodded in an effort to be friendly. “Yes, well, Ruby was very…insistent that I come over tonight.”

Ariel’s eyes got wide as she looked over the rim of her glass, picking up on the unstated tension between the two of them. Ruby seemed to find it amusing, leaning back onto the counter. Silence fell back between the four of them.

“How about a movie?” Lacey suggested, waving towards the television. “Food’s right over here and we can eat on the couch.”

“What should we watch?” Ariel asked, digging through her tote. “I brought Saw, Beetlejuice, Ghostbusters, Halloween and Scream!”

“I have Hocus Pocus, Casper, Nightmare before Christmas, It’s the Great Pumpkin Charlie Brown and Halloweentown,” Mary Margret contributed. When everyone turned to look at her, she shot them all a look back. “Hey, I’m a elementary school teacher,” she said defensively. “Excuse me, if I don’t own slashers.”

Ruby nudged a bag of DVDS over, peering through it as she read out,” Looks like I have Practical Magic, Witches of Eastwick, The Addams Family, and The Craft.”

As the group began to discuss the merits and cons of each film, Lacey dimly remembered her one old VHS still stuck in her VCR. “I think I have Rocky Horror Picture Show,” she offered. The news was greeted with cheers and a slightly nervous agreement from the Rocky Horror Virgin Mary Margret.

“It’s great,” Ruby assured her as they moved towards the couch. “You’ll love it.”

 

Two hours later, the four of them were sprawled out around the couch, singing their favorite lines with the occasional, “Damn it Janet!” thrown in to peals of laughter. Six empty wine bottles were scattered on the make shift coffee table, as an empty apple pie tray had crumbs scattered around plates and laps.

“Okay, okay,” Ruby decreed, pushing her hoodie out of her eyes. “Let’s get serious for a second.”

Ariel stopped singing, as Mary Margret reached for another glass of wine. Lacey, nestled between the two of their legs on the floor, shook her head. “No, no, no,” she groused. “We aren’t playing Truth or Dare.”

Mary Margret laughed,” So, she always tries to make you play that too, huh?”

Looking back at the flushed princess, Lacey grinned up at her. “Every time. Spin the bottle is more popular at bars though.”

“Which is why I don’t go to bars with her anymore,” Mary Margret informed her with a sigh. “She always managed to land on the hottest guy in the circle, I had to deal with his vain chauvinistic friend.”

“That reminds me, did you still want me to set you up with Victor?”

“Oh, not Victor,” Ruby pouted. “I’m saving him for when I’m ready to settle down!”

Ariel made a face at Mary Margret over Lacey’s head. “You don’t want to date Victor,” she assured her. “He’s all hands.”

Lacey shrugged. “He’s a good kisser at least,” she shared.

Ruby leaned in, scenting her chance. “Okay, since Lacey is in a telling mood, truth or dare?”

Meeting her friend’s eye evenly, Lacey finally caved. “Fine, truth.”

“How is Gold in bed?”

Narrowing her eyes at Ruby who was grinning at her own cleverness, Lacey answered testily,” I wouldn’t know.”

“You haven’t had sex yet?” Ariel asked her, wide eyed. “You?”

“Hey,” Lacey said, slapping her friend’s leg. “Just because I’ve had a few dates-“

“Most of downtown Storybrooke,” Ruby said under her breath to Mary Margret.

“Doesn’t mean I just jump in the sack with any guy,” Lacey finished. “Beside, Gold is more like a roommate than a boyfriend.”

“Then, where does he sleep?” Ariel giggled, indicating the full mattress in the corner of the room.

“It’s my turn,” Lacey proclaimed over her, avoiding the question. “Alright, Mary Margret.”

“Dare,” the brunette said defiantly.

Lacey nodded approvingly. “Alright, I dare you to go commando, the rest of the game.”

Mary Margret blinked at her but nodded gamely. Lacey pointed towards the bathroom,” You can change in there-“

Before anyone could stop her, Mary Margret had stood, bent down to delve under her skirts, only to straighten and step out of her thong panties, holding them up in her hand as she grinned triumphantly. Applause followed this stunt as Mary Margret settled back down, pink panties proudly in her lap.

“Ruby,” Mary Margret said, flushed with her own success. “Truth or Dare?”

“Dare,” Ruby said, smacking her lips as she put her wine glass down. Lacey turned to watch Mary Margret, curious to see how her mind worked.

A calm smile on her lips, Mary Margret said calmly,” Go to the neighbors and ask to borrow an umbrella.”

“That’s lame,” Ariel sighed to which Lacey was inclined to agree. “You should have made her dance around in her underwear.”

“Done,” Ruby said, standing and dusting off her lap. She headed towards the door, her tail swinging behind her. “I’ll be back in a flash.”

Ariel huffed, obviously unhappy that her turn had been postponed. Lacey helped herself to the chips leftover on the table. “She’ll be a while,” Lacey told the two others. “My nearest neighbor is Archie and he’s probably asleep by now. Who wants to go next?”

“Me!” Ariel bounced up and down. “Okay, I want a truth.”

Nodding, Lacey thought about if for a minute. Mary Margret was humming Meatloaf’s song to herself, her foot kicking the tune out beside Lacey. “Got it. Okay, have you ever stolen anything?”

Ariel colored slightly and Mary Margret’s foot stilled. “Well, I didn’t technically steal it.”

“Borrowing something and not giving it back is stealing,” Lacey clarified for her. “What was it?”

“I don’t have to answer that,” Ariel said quickly. “Truth or Dare, Lacey?”

“Dare,” Lacey said, having learned her lesson about the curiosity of her friends.

“Yes!” Ariel crowed. “I dare you to put lipstick on another player but you can’t use your hands!”

“Uh, wait a minute,” Mary Margret started nervously. “I’m the only other player-“

“Come on,” Lacey grinned. “I’m pretty good with my mouth.”

Ariel giggling wickedly, grabbed for her bag where she brought out a coral pink lipstick. “Here you guys go,” she said handing the tube to Lacey. “Have fun.”

A few minutes later, Mary Margret, flushed with a slightly lopsided lipstick print on her mouth, was helping herself to another glass of wine while Lacey sat in Ruby’s old chair, grinning for England.

“Nice,” Ariel said approvingly.

“Haven’t done that since college,” Lacey said with a wink to Mary Margret.

“Me neither,” Mary Margret said faintly back. “Should we still be playing without Ruby?”

“She’ll be back in a minute,” Lacey said with a shrug. “If we stop playing, we won’t want to start again and she’ll get her panties in a twist. Ok, truth or dare?”

“Truth,” Mary Margret said, fingers touching the smeared lipstick idly.

“Ok, what’s the kinkiest sex you’ve ever had?”

“Oh, that’s easy,” Mary Margret said in relief. “From behind.”

“From behind?” Ariel said in awe before giggling nervously “That’s the…the kinkiest sex you’ve ever had?”

Giving her an odd look, Mary Margret turned back to Lacey in question. “Well, I know there’s kinkier things out there but…I’ve only had sex with the one person-“

“Okay,” Lacey said raising her hand. “We need to take a trip to Woody and Buzz’s. Ever girl should own a costume or two, handcuffs, toys for boys and girls and some videos.”

“Oh but I couldn’t-“

“Oh but you will,” Ariel promised. “We’ll take you!”

As the conversation shifted from truth or dare to the more important things a girl should own, Ruby came back through the door, holding up a familiar umbrella proudly.

“Oh, you went to Archie’s?” Lacey groaned. “Now, he’s going to wake me up before noon tomorrow in concerned retaliation!”

“He was fine,” Ruby said, pushing her out of the way so she can perch on the arm of the loveseat with her. “Whose turn is it?”

The game soon broke down into sexual truths and increasingly ridiculous dares until the four of them were in various stages of languid repose as the wine and laughter left them weak and exhausted.

“If you upload that video of me trying to shake that ice cube out of my dress online, I’m going to kill you,” Lacey said tiredly to Ruby.

“Then, I have assurance that footage of me barking like a dog on all fours isn’t going to see the light of day. “

“Actually, I have that one,” Mary Margret reminded her. “And I doubt I’ll be terribly embarrassed that I can touch my tongue to my nose.” Ariel was passed out, her bikini top strap sliding off her shoulder. “I better take her home,” Mary Margret sighed, standing. “I live in the same lofts as her boyfriend.”

“Can he come pick us up?” Ruby asked. “And can I crash on your couch?”

“Fine,” Mary Margret said, fishing for Ariel’s phone. “Let me call him.”

Thirty minutes later, Lacey watched as Mary Margret and Ruby helped Eric load his sleeping girlfriend into the passenger seat before the four of them drove off. Her apartment looked like a tornado had hit it. Queenie was nowhere to be found since the dare that involved wearing a cat on your head like a hat.

Letting herself simply fall down onto her bed, she kicked the sheets over her and sighed in content bliss. Until the TV blared to life as a very impish DoDo called out cheekily,” You did say total remote power for a week!”

Pulling her pillow over her head, Lacey tried to remember why she hadn’t just sold her soul and been done with it yet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bit longer of a chapter today to make up for that baby update yesterday! And we get to meet Ariel because I'm Disney Princess trash and I didn't learn OuaT lesson about too many new characters.


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Important, Traditional (and ridiculous) preparations that should be done before Halloween?

October 14th, 2015

As winter crept into the air, the beautiful splendor of the New England fall began to wither and drop to the ground to be trampled under foot. Piles of dead leaves crunched and crackled as people made their way through their yards and down the street, cumulating in large piles where children shrieked as they threw themselves into it gleefully.

As Lacey trudged home in her suede booties, she carefully picked around the mushy piles rotting away along the sidewalk path. Wrinkling her nose as she passed the home on the corner, complete with the god-awful windmill that read The Nolans, she paused before she went down her street.

The sun hadn’t set quite yet but the wind lifted the hair at the nape of her neck, finding the gap in her scarf to trace it’s icy breath down her spine. She shifted, shrugging a shoulder to move her jacket back into place as she weighed her options. Returning home while tempting also meant having to watch whatever prime time show came on tonight while drinking wine and ordering anchovy pizza- again.

If she went straight, she’d end up at the lofts where Mary Margret lived and if she went back down the street, she could stop in at the diner to see Ruby. Maybe Granny would even be in one of her good moods, eager to fill the two of them with meatloaf and pie and let Ruby off early. Doubtful though, considering Ruby hadn’t been to work the past three days. It was home or the Rabbit Hole and Lacey wasn’t dressed to impress at the moment.

By the time Lacey walked in her own door, after checking to see if Archie was home, which he wasn’t, she was in a terrible mood. Bristling slightly as she undid her scarf, Lacey opened her mouth to complain about the noise when she realized there wasn’t any.

The apartment was dark and silent. Only Queenie’s soft purring greeted her as she moved into the kitchen to turn on the light. It appeared as if she had the place to herself for the evening. Checking the food and water bowl, Lacey scooped up the feline and moved towards the couch. A book she had been reading was tucked carefully in the cushion by the armrest and she retrieved it with a sigh as she kicked her booties off onto the floor.

Queenie made herself at home on her thighs, kneading and clawing gently until she laid herself down to rest. Lacey gently tucked her legs underneath her, leaning back until she was as comfortable as possible on this lumpy old garage sale reject and opened her book.

Nearly two chapters later, Lacey had finally relaxed enough to sprawl out across the couch, Queenie having moved to her stomach where she was curled up contently. Around seven thirty, Lacey’s stomach rumbled, reminding her lunch had been a peanut butter and jelly sandwich and little else. Opting to ignore it for just one more chapter, Lacey continued to read. Queenie however lifted her odd half and half face, blinking curiously as she turned and faced the fireplace and meowed in greeting.

“Hey DoDo,” Lacey greeted without looking up from her page. “What’s for dinner?”

Out of the shadows, materialized a very annoyed looking demon. “Invisibility,” he sniffed haughtily. “Is an art form and I would appreciate it if you could at least pretend to be startled.”

“Go startle Archie,” Lacey grinned up at him.

“Can’t,” the demon griped as he scooted her legs out of the way so he could sit down. “That damn dog of his starts barking before I can even get a decent boo out.”

Queenie made her way down Lacey’s leg, hopping on to the back of the couch to purr and knock her head against DoDo’s curls. He waved her away but she continued regardless until he scooped her up to put in his lap. Lacey shook her head as she repositioned her feet in his lap, kicking at his thigh to let him know he was in her way. He ignored her, putting the cat on her ankles and petting it absently.

“Are you still reading that?” DoDo asked, indicating the George Washington biography in Lacey’s hands. “I’ve told you, about Louis Capet-“

“Yes, yes,” Lacey groaned, digging her heels into his breeches. “King of France made a deal to humiliate England and wound up losing his head in his own country’s revolution.”

“Shy that one,” DoDo confided. “Book smart but had quite a few things to learn about the birds and bees.”

“If you tell me,” Lacey said without looking up from the paragraph on slavery on Mount Vernon. “That you taught the King of France how to perform his husbandly duties-“

“Oh, nothing like that,” DoDo cackled. “His advisors took him in hand and showed him how it was done, I just had to suggest perhaps using a different approach-“

“Stop,” Lacey said, snapping her book shut. “No more about kings. Let’s talk dinner.”

A one-shoulder shrug, “I had plans this evening in preparation of Samhain.”

“Halloween?”

He gave her a pointed look that expressed frustration, exasperation, and indignation in all one glare. Lacey sat up, pulling her feet back underneath her as she kneeled on the couch cushion.

“Well, you’re not doing your satanic rituals in my house,” Lacey informed him. “If you aren’t going to eat, you can bippity boppity boo right out of here so I can order Shang’s take out.”

“Sanhiem is the beginning of the Celtic new year,” DoDo told her as if she hadn’t just told him no. “Much like your alcoholic excuse of a new year, this is about wrapping up the old and preparing for the new. “

“Demons are Celtic?” Lacey asked him, twisting her head to look at him closer.

“All cultures celebrate the feast of ancestors or the day of the dead, the celebration of harvest as life ends and winter begins. I just happen to be of Celtic origin-“

“Wait, rewind,” Lacey interrupted. “What do you mean you are of Celtic origins?”

A flick of his wrist caused the fireplace to roar to life, crackling and roaring as if it had been burning for hours. “I was a Scot in my past life,” he said with another of his one-shoulder shrugs. “Doesn’t matter after the first century of demonic creation.”

“Did you wear plaid?” Lacey asked him, one corner of her mouth tugging upwards. “And play bag pipes?”

“You’re very interested in something that is no concern of yours,” DoDo accused her brightly. “The main point I am trying to convey through that thick skull of yours is that depending on your location, the time and place of the veil’s lifting is different.”

“Halloween- okay, fine, Sanhiem,” Lacey amended after DoDo sighed theatrically. “isn’t for another few weeks.”

“There are preparations necessary, it’s not as if you just wake up on the day of the dead and expect to be able to commune with the spirits.”

“Like carving pumpkins?”

As he sighed histrionically again, shaking his head as he muttered darkly about Americans, Lacey swatted him with her very heavy book.

 

-

“That looks ridiculous.”

“Well, I didn’t use magic to carve mine!”

Lacey shook her head, wiping the sweat from her brow as she peered down at her finished masterpiece. Her pumpkin glowered fiercely up at her, eyebrows cut in menacing angles and it’s gap toothed fanged grin warning of danger and mischief.

DoDo’s on the other hand was filigree carving of Celtic knots around a four leaf clover where a horse reared up, mane blowing behind him as the candle light flickered and flared in the thin gossamer pumpkin still left. Lacey, glancing down at her own more traditional one shrugged as she moved hers to the place of honor in the kitchen window.

“See, wasn’t this more fun than doing some kind of dumb dinner?”

“It is titled Dumb Supper because you are not allowed to speak-“

“Oh, why didn’t you say so? We should have done that,” Lacey teased as she arranged her pumpkin to leer down at Archie’s yard. “I’ve been listening to you prattle about the bloody King of France for the past two hours.”

“You wouldn’t have been able to talk either,” he sniped. “Although what I would do without your witty repertoires…”

Surveying the mess in the kitchen, Lacey frowned at the idea of the clean up involved. On the counter, take out from the place in Hong Kong DoDo magically ordered from was nearly empty but still needed to be taken out so it didn’t stink the whole place up. Outside, the clouds hid the moon and the wind rattled the panes occasionally.

“Hey,” Lacey said, as an idea came to her. “Want to do another American Halloween tradition?”

\--

Sometime around eight the next morning, Lacey woke up to hear the very displeased, very loud and very heated voice of Archie Hopper yelling about the damn kids who had rolled his house last night.

Lacey, grinning into her pillow, fell back asleep, bits of toilet paper still clinging to her hair.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, yes there are. But Lacey and DoDo of course pick don't do those because carving pumpkins and rolling houses are more fun. 
> 
>  
> 
> Last night I went through and picked prompts for the rest of October, so tomorrow we will be getting Gold and Bae. Something to look forward to! I hope you all enjoyed this domestic chapter at the expense of poor Archie.


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DoDo is in his human disguise, Gold, and finds that his son is still in Storybrooke. He runs into him in one of his “outings”. Bae at first doesn’t recognize him and DoDo decides to mess with his son a bit.

_October 16, 2015_

After the first ten centuries of demonic life, certain things grow rather dull. Humans were terribly predictable creatures, no matter what time they lived in, what place they called home or how special they thought themselves. The Dark One enjoyed playing with his chosen victims, those who thought themselves worth more than everyone around them. He liked to see them grow desperate, begging on their knees before him until he granted them their little whims. Yet, that too had grown stale. Perhaps it had something to do with being able to see the future, knowing which strings to pluck, which to grease and how to play them in just the right way to lead the silly creatures to a making of their own demise but he had grown bored of his usual routine. 

Of course, there had been exceptions.

Milah, consort of Sviatoslav the Brave, had been his first novelty. He had been not even a century old when he had been summoned to the shores of the Danube. He had found a Norse woman standing tall and proud in the shallows of the river with blood on her hands, tears on her cheeks and ash in her mouth.

A lowly royal family servant girl who grown into her birth right as a prophetess, she had caught the eye of the warlord King and had been forced to become his queen. No child had been born to them and the King had moved onto his concubines, all who had given birth to sons. If she did not conceive a heir apparent quickly, he would cast her out and murder her family as a warning to others who failed him. All very typical in those times.

A deal was struck, a child for a life. With strong magic in her, Milah had been able to conceive a demon’s child. With her own fire and strong will, she had feared nothing and he, cursed as he was, had been unable to resist the siren’s song of her power.

He had been young then. Still, evil had run through his veins and tainted everything he touched. The woman had quickened but just as her belly swelled, so came the visions of her own death in childbirth. She had turned from her demon lover, cursing him for her demise. She had tried everything to kill the child inside her but she had failed. Despite the Dark One’s devotion to the prophetess, he would not let her harm his progeny. When Baelfire had slipped into this world, she had slipped away.

It had been an odd time. To be a father to a half mortal, half demon son had been complicated in a time where Christianity had begun to take over the pagan world. Thankfully, it was easy enough to hide his son’s magical tendencies. He had just inserted himself into the court as a jester, ensuring his son’s safety from his half brothers. When the time had come, the Dark One had assisted Sviatoslav’s enemies with their ambush, leading to the demise of the expanding empire. He had managed to keep Bae safe in the following fratricidal feud, only for his only son to denounce his demon heritage, and chose a human life.

Ever since that fateful time, the Dark One had shunned him. Occasionally, when a deal brought him to the same continent, the Dark One would visit his son, but often only long enough to pick a fight about Bae’s choice. The forever twenty eight year old man moved constantly, whether to avoid mortal’s notice or his father’s visits, the Dark One couldn’t say.

Thankfully, his deals kept him busy, content even. Humans grew more religious, and yet strangely more willing to believe in the things that went bump in the night. His soul reaping jumped in the years following the crusades, almost tripled during the renaissance and then during the European Golden Years, he had been reaping two to three souls in a night.

Of course, that was when he had met Cora. But that was another matter.

 

At the moment, the Dark One was spying shamelessly on the newest woman who equally vexed and intrigued him, the unwitting witch of Storybrooke.

Brown hair pulled back in a messy knot on the top of her head, and startling blue eyes the color of the Calanque de Sormiou. So like the French sea, her eyes shifted from turquoise to deep dark blue depending on her mood. He had almost offered to take her there the last time she had threatened to skin him alive. Something in the way her pale skin had glowed in the firelight had reminded him of other times and he had regained his mind long enough to remember he knew better.

Currently, she was leaning over a pool table with her ridiculous short dress hiked up around her hips as her leggings disappeared in the dark of the bar. Not that anyone was paying attention to her lower end, when her breasts were nearly spilling out on the table in the excuse for a button up she had thrown on this evening. Only her current pool partner was oblivious to her charms, Bae standing absently at the end of the pool table and grousing about his favorite subject.

“Six hours in an interrogation cell,” Bae continued, heedless of Lacey’s attempt to angle her shot. “And that’s not the worst of it.”

Safely ensconced in the far back corner of the bar, the Dark One wrapped his invisibility around him tighter, eyeing a straggling drunk who was looking for a good place to pass out. At the pool table, Lacey sank her shot, straightening proudly as she threw a defiant grin to the man beside her. Bae barely blinked, simply leaned down and sank his shot without pausing. “And then, the landlord tried to steal the candlesticks as he was evicting me. I swear, if I still had an ounce of magic in me-.”

Smiling proudly, the Dark One let himself enjoy his success. His little trick at Bae’s horrible apartment in the city had gone over better then he had expected. His son, back in town and staying at the excuse for an Inn down the street, had been unable to find a new apartment in the city and had returned to Storybrooke in the interim.

The only issue currently was much like old times, he wanted nothing to do with his father. Hence, why Lacey was playing pool with him on a Friday night and he was lurking in the corner like an overgrown bat. Lacey, having missed her next shot, watched angrily as Bae made short work of the rest of his striped balls, before neatly calling, “Eight, back right corner pocket.”

The game, the fifth of the night, was over and Baelfire declared winner of the evening. “Fine,” Lacey grumbled. “Winner pays.”

An uninteresting debate began about the validity of this but the Dark One knew his son. Sure enough, after a few more moments of lighthearted sparring, his son shuffled up to the bar to get the next round. In the interim, a man who had been lurking at a table nearby, got up and approached the witch, who pleased at the attention drifted away from the table until the two of them were lingering by the back door.

Bae, returning to find this development, subtly turned and made himself comfortable back at the bar. The Dark One, finding nothing of interest in the bland mortal distracting the witch, debated whether to return home. Bae had made it clear he would not be stepping foot in Lacey’s studio, going so far as to threaten that if he saw his father, he would turn around and head straight back to New York. Idle threats, the Dark One knew. If his son had wanted to stay in New York, he would have gone to his dreadful godmother’s abode.

Watching as the couple seated next to Bae left, the Dark One decided to have a little fun. Shedding his invisibility, the Dark One instead donned his mortal disguise, his true face from once upon a time. His son had seen this face many times before but not this modern version of it. Longer hair, fuller brows and and no hint of facial hair changed his features into a more striking, pointed and angular man of means. Add a three piece suit, and he was all but unrecognizable from his many previous personas. It was surprising how unobservant humans were, even the immortal ones.

“This seat taken?”

Bae looked up, brow wrinkling at the newcomer but he nodded pleasantly regardless. “It was, but I think they just left.”

“It’s either here or,” he gestured towards a group of men on the other side of the bar. One was sneezing, wiping his nose on his sleeve, while another was half passed out, head in his arms on the counter top. A third one was giggling like an idiot, putting straws in his mouth and clapping like a walrus while a fourth smiled happily, nodding along to this ridiculous show. A fifth one was staring fixedly at his drink, blushing bright red whenever the bartender so much as looked at him and the sixth idiot was cleaning his glasses with his lab coat, looking bored.

“By all means,” Bae said, glancing over at this odd group. “Care for a beer?”

Letting his raised eyebrow answer for him, DoDo took the offered beer from his son. “You look familiar,” Bae told him, regarding him carefully. “You friends with Lacey French?”

“You could say that,” the Dark One responded neutrally, looking back to where Lacey stood laughing by the neon exit sign.

“Gotcha,” Bae nodded grimly. “Don’t worry, he’s got another ten minutes before he strikes out.”

“Hmm,” he said thoughtfully, regarding his son some interest. “Do tell me then, why is she leaving with him?”

Sure enough, Bae twisted around to find Lacey disappearing out the back door without a glance back. Shaking his head at this, Bae chuckled before returning to his beer. “Shit, she wasn’t kidding about winner paying.”

Catching the eye of the bartender, the Dark One signaled for another round. A waitress came around the corner, bumping the bartender out of the way as she leaned down in front of them. “I’m Goldie,” she simpered at them, playing with a lock of her blonde hair as it spilled down over her ample cleavage. The girl looked barely older than eighteen and Neal pushed back in his chair as he regarded her with some trepidation. The Dark One merely ordered another round. She skipped off, tossing him a promising look over her shoulder as she went.

“You seem to have some luck with the ladies,” his son said begrudgingly. “Maybe I should get leave you to it-“

“Nonsense,” he insisted, enjoying this little interaction immensely. Over the years since he had become immortal, Bae had been dismissive of his father and demons in general. Still, he had turned up in Storybrooke to see if the rumors about the Dark One were true, though he had been surprised as anyone to find his father spending time with a witch.

At first, Neal had been suspicious of the woman, as witches were avert forsworn enemies of all demons. He had soon come to realize Lacey was ignorant of her heritage; the two were now as thick as thieves and the Dark One barely could get a word in edgewise in their company. “Besides, if I know Miss French, she’ll return from her little rendezvous shortly.”

Neal looked up at him in interest. “Miss French? I’ve heard Lacey called some names but never Miss French.”

Shrugging, Gold turned back to Goldie who had returned with their beers. She leaned back down, another button having come undone in her brief trip to collect their beverages. “Anything else I can do for you?” She asked, wetting her lips suggestively.

He shook his head, turning back to Bae as if she wasn’t half prone on the bar between them. His son looked as if he may laugh, straightened his face back to neutral. They exchanged names and spoke for a few more seconds about the odds of Lacey’s return, both sipping at their beers as Goldie pouted behind the bar, shooting looks their way occasionally. “Got to say, Gold,” Bae whistled. “You do pretty well for yourself with the ladies. The two in the back corner haven’t taken their eyes off you since you sat down.”

Checking in the mirror’s reflection, the Dark One did indeed see two rather noticeable women staring impetuously at him in the mirror. Catching their eye, each in turn, he read them as if they had spread their lives before him and returned to his son. “Sisters, rather competitive ones at that,” he said blandly. “Wearing far too much makeup with the misinformed opinion they are desirable.”

“Real pieces of work,” Bae agreed, as he reviewed them in the mirror. The Dark One looked proudly at his son, knowing he was reading their faces the way he had taught him as a boy, to see past what they wanted him to see to the truth of them. “I’m just glad it was you that caught their attention.”

“Not interested?”

“No,” Bae said with a chuckle. “I do better by myself.”

“I thought that too once.”

Baelfire looked unimpressed. Staring at his son’s reflection, the Dark One wondered how often he had to have this conversation with well meaning but ignorant mortals. “Yea,” Bae muttered in indifference. “What changed your mind?”

“A son.”

“Ah,” Bae said, taking a long drink instead of responding further. “Lucky guy to have a father that cares.”

“Your father cares about you,” the Dark One declared indignantly. “How could you think otherwise?”

Neal looked at him in confusion, looking around uncertainty. “Uh, I don’t really know you, Gold but I assure you, my father isn’t the warm and fuzzy kind.”

“Doesn’t mean he doesn’t love you,” came the surprising voice from behind them. Turning, the two men found Lacey holding a pool stick and looking exasperatedly at the two of them. She caught his eyes and shook her head at him, the smile in her eyes betraying her mock reproof. Neal scoffed at her, handing her the untouched beer Goldie had just dropped off to him.

“Met your friend Gold,” Neal said, nodding over to him. “What happened to Back Alley Bob?”

“He had to go home,” Lacey sighed, tapping the pool stick on the bottom of her heel. “He remembered he was married.”

Grinning at her, the Dark One opened his mouth to throw in a quip when he felt a warmth drape itself over his back. “Hello, stranger,” giggled a low sultry voice in his ear. “Care to dance?”

Lacey groaned as the warmth came into view. She was a alluring woman, dark hair and blue green eyes. She also had on a very low cut sweater with a bodice and exquisitely tailored leather pants that he eyed appreciatively. She mistook his gaze as something else entirely and moved closer until she was practically in his lap. "Give it a rest, Jack."

“Who’s your friend, Lacey?” Jack asked, ignoring the clear dismissal.

Baelfire looked amused, as he scooted back slightly. Regarding the creature in his lap, the Dark One quickly took stock of her, and grew bored. “I’m afraid I don’t dance,” he said blandly, plucking her fingers off him before gently lifting her off his lap and back to standing between the three of them.

“Hey,” Goldie appeared at the bar, frowning. “Is she bothering you?”

“Beat it, blondie,” Jack ordered through her toothy smile. “You’ve got Sleepy, Dopey, Sneezy, Bashful and Happy down there if your looking for a tip.”

“You forgot Doc,” the Dark One couldn’t help to add impishly, nodding at the bespectacled man who was peering curiously down the aptly named Sneezy’s throat. Jack sniggered, looking down at him with her black-rimmed eyes with appreciation.

“You sure you don’t dance?” She asked again, fingers tracing his lapel. Lacey had moved over to beside Bae, watching this with a mix of amusement and disgust.

He shook his head, but caught his son's eyes in the mirror, “Perhaps Neal here would be amenable?”

Bae froze but Lacey, quick on the draw, nodded, plucking him up and out of his chair before he could protest. “That’s a great idea,” Lacey said over his protests. “Jack, Neal’s a good friend of mine from New York City. Show him a good time, will ya?”

The magical words New York City caught the small town girl’s ear like fire. She turned her attention from him to his son as if he no longer existed. Before Baelfire could stutter out an excuse, she as dragging him over to the jukebox across the room. Watching her tow him behind her, Lacey took Bae's absent seat. Goldie was hovering nearby, now shooting Lacey a dirty look as she realized she was not in fact with the younger man.

“He’s going to be pissed when he realizes it’s you,” Lacey told him, watching as Bae grudgingly took Jack in a formal waltz hold and began to move her around the floor despite the heavy R&B track. Jack looked mystified but Bae had her a firm grip and she was forced along with the rigid dance steps. A few other patrons watched in amusement, a few even getting up to join them.

Noticing the two sisters from the booth had stood and were moving towards him, the Dark One finished his beverage and stood. “I’ll be going now,” he said, nodding his head towards the quickly approaching duo.

“Oh, come on,” Lacey laughed, grabbing for his hand. “Let’s go dance. I want to see Jack’s face up close.”

This was how, a demon, a witch, an immortal and a few inebriated humans ended up dancing the waltz to the musical styling of R. Kelley.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well. That didn't go as expected.


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DoDo bumps into David Nolan when Lacey kicked him out for Halloween movie night.  
> (This chapter does take place before the previous chapter but hey, c'est la vie)

_October 13, 2015_

As a rule, demons do not care for the company of humans. The Dark One, however, had always ignored most rules. As it was, he was currently for all extents and purposes living with a witch, so he failed to see why he shouldn’t enjoy the foolish mortals and their quirks while he was at it.

In the past, anytime a human had stumbled upon him it had been as simple as removing them from this earthly coil. Perhaps a memory charm if he needed them to secure his deals or if he was feeling puckish that day but usually a more permanent solution was needed.

Until Storybrooke, that is.

A witch’s soul, willingly given, would ensure him power beyond ken. So, he had stayed, waited, and become annoyingly intrigued with the brat. Then, her nosy neighbor had busted into her apartment with his damned dog. Simple solution would have been to turn them both to stone and banish them to his realm, they would have fit beautifully in the main hall. Yet, he knew the witch would have been furious and cause further issues.

A memory charm had been on the tip of his tongue when he remembered Baelfire. His immortal son seemed to enjoy the humans, and if this specimen could be trusted to keep his mouth closed, likely by the way he seemed to be devoted to the witch, it could prove a golden opportunity to study the humans closer and see what Bae found so pleasant about them.

He did not find Master Hopper particularly pleasant. Yet, the red headed man did have a certain enjoyable shrinking quality about him, a nervous bravery that was both amusing and grating. The witch was appeased and he endeavored to continue learning the oddities of humans while awaiting the witch’s deal.

As far as the other party to his secret, Neal had befriended the girl Ruby and the witch was close to her. He assumed it was sooner or later that one of the two spilled the beans and he preferred to impress upon her the severity of the situation. The magical hash had not helped matters but never mind that, time would tell. As far as the other people the witch seemed to consider friends, he found the lot of them boring which is why he had been more than happy to leave her little hen party. Perhaps Master Hopper would be amenable to ordering Gepetto’s.

“Hey, it’s Gold right?”

The Dark One, ruler of the Darkest Realm and master of the Dark Castle, turned to find David Nolan, unemployed adulter, lingering suspiciously on the corner outside Master Hopper’s abode.

“David,” he greeted, conscious that he still wore the face of Gold. “Are you looking for Miss Blanchard?”

The man looked abashed, eyes darting to the single lit window in the abandoned building before smiling tightly back at Gold’s composed face. “Uh, no. I was actually just out for a walk.”

“Because just below forty degrees on a stormy night is a perfect time to stretch one’s legs,” the Dark One replied, noticing the way Nolan bristled in response. Unfortunately for the man, there was nothing he could do in regards to the slight and they both knew it. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I was just leaving.”

The Dark One knew desperate souls and before he had gotten two feet away, he heard hurried footsteps as David Nolan fell in beside him. “Gold,” he said quickly. “How about a beer? My wife’s at a book club tonight so I’m at a bit at odds…”

Barely hiding the smirk that pulled his thin lips from his teeth, the Dark One nodded. “That sounds fine, David,” he said while shining eyes. “Just fine.”

\--

 

“Well, it seems clear to me,” the Dark One said thoughtfully after their fifth pitcher of beer. They sat to the far side of the bar, a pillar conveniently blocking the mirror from picking up his reflection, which the glamor did not fully extend to. “You need a job. Idle hands are the devils’ playthings, they say.”

David nodded thoughtfully, blue eyes glassy from drink. “Maybe you’re right,” he agreed with a hiccup. “It’s just Kathryn’s parents left us that trust fund and she wants me to go back to school-“

“David,” the demon interrupted. “David, David, David. What did we just talk about? If you go back to college, Kathryn will have full rein to carry on that sordid affair with that Fred fellow over at the school! No, what you need is something to show her that you can manage just fine without a useless old degree.”

“Hmm,” David said thoughtfully, brow furrowing. “Maybe I could work down at the docks and work my way up to one of the wharf positions.”

“David, you aren’t thinking big enough,” he cajoled him, fingers prickling with anticipation. He had not reaped a soul in too long. The magic was restless, itching to bestow upon this individual his heart’s desire and own his soul in return. And yet, these past three hours had been mostly drunken monologues and bewildering rants on the state of mortality and love. “You can tell me, what is it that you truly want, more than anything else in this world?”

David paused, eyes drifting up to the ceiling as he thought about it but then he sighed as his shoulders hunched over and he shook his head over his glass. “I don’t know,” he sighed. “I know I should want to make Kathryn happy but that’s not what I want. You know?”

Repressing the very real urge to growl in frustration, the Dark One nodded as if in agreement. David continued,” I mean, what do you want?”

Opening his mouth to respond with some quip about women, money or immortality, his standard go to’s for drunken heart to hearts with potential souls, the Dark One instead found himself speechless.

David nodded. “See? Hard, isn’t it?”

But that was just it, he fumed to himself as he turned back to his beer, it wasn’t hard, not for the Dark One incarnate. David signaled the bartender for another pitcher, silent as he stared sightlessly down at the counter. He wanted the soul of a witch. He who possessed such a soul would wield unfathomable power. Thing was he didn’t know what he would do with that power.

“Do you love her?”

David had rallied, leaning towards him intently as he awaited a response. The Dark One frowned at him. “Do I what?”

“Love Lacey?” David repeated. “ I mean like can’t stop thinking about her, want to make her happy, feel like you’re going to die without her love?”

“I am in no such thing,” the Dark One exclaimed in disgust, shuddering at the thought of it. “She is simply she.”

“Oh,” David murmured dejectedly, turning back to his drink. “That’s how I feel about her.”

The oddest prickling sensation rose along his skin as he inquired, “Lacey?”

“No!” David exclaimed, eyes blown wide in horror. “Mary Margret!”

The pair of them quickly took long draughts of their drink. The Dark One with this new information should have been able to suggest numerous deals but instead all he could think of was the witch’s face when he told her he had reaped her new little friend’s soul mate. “David,” he said finally, taking hold of the new pitcher standing between them. “I don’t know a lot about love but I’ll say this. Perhaps, you should consider divorce.”

And then he poured them two tall drinks and spent the rest of the evening giving dating advice to a mortal. If any other demon in this world or the next had seen them, they would not have recognized the Dark One. David, of course, accepted the advice thoughtfully; occasionally taking interested side glances in the mirror where every so often, a talon claw in a three-piece suit would wander into view when Gold reached for the pitcher.

It wasn’t as if David had meant to spend the evening getting drunk with whatever the hell Gold was. His original plan to confront the disguised monster he had seen the night at the grocery store had gone to hell but as Gold motioned for another round, he failed to care.

After all, anything was better than standing outside the apartment and listening for Mary Margret’s laugh or sitting at home and waiting for his wife to get back from her lover’s bed. So, he drank with the devil and somehow, did not get burned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And the plot thickens.


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lacey and Gold are invited to a party and must wear something pink.

_October 24, 2015_

“Absolutely not.”

With a sigh of relief, Lacey turned back to the mirror. She had been putting the final touches on her costume for the evening when her erstwhile roommate had appeared to demand attention and his promised Gepetto’s pizza. What he had gotten instead was an invitation to a theme party.

“Suit yourself,” Lacey said, returning her attention to her mascara. The Dark One did not decamp to the couch. He stayed, studying her from behind.

“Will Baelfire be attending this soiree?” He probed delicately. He wisely avoided critique on her costume, knowing if he wanted his information he would have to play nice.

“I don’t think so,” Lacey said after a minute. “Ruby may have invited him but I specifically was told to invite you.” Lacey smiled a bit as she searched for the lipstick she wanted. “But if you don’t want to come-“

DoDo wandered into the bathroom, ignoring her squawk of protest as he nearly nudged her into the sink. He settled upon the toilet after flipping his tailcoats out from underneath him. Settled, he peered up at her in suspicion. “Explain again,” he insisted. “Why I would have to wear pink?”

“Halloween,” Lacey replied with ease. “Breast Cancer Awareness Month. Mean Girls party theme, pick a card, any card.”

His eyes fell to the white tank top Lacey had butchered by cutting two round holes in before slipping over her new hot pink bra. With the miniskirt and fishnet hoses she had added on a lark, she thought she made a rather convincing Regina George. The blonde wig she was rocking definitely helped too.

“Is that the millennial comedy all females reference on a daily basis?”

“That’s the one,” Lacey said, straightening her wig one last time. “You still haven’t’ watched it?”

He raised one eyebrow at her sardonically and uttered,’ ”I do have better things to do with my time, you know.”

“Well, I tried,” Lacey shrugged, heading back towards her bed to slip on her wedge heels. It was a bit cold outside for this look but she figured Granny’s would be packed. “Okay, well, I’m heading-“ She stopped cold, staring in horror at Gold standing nonchalantly by the couch, holding out her jacket. “I thought-“

“Don’t want to be late,” he scolded her, waving the jacket as he smiled devilishly. “Is my attire appropriate?”

Draped in what appeared to be one of Neal’s hoodies, he had one a pair of black aviator sunglasses. A pink t-shirt edge peeked out from under the pale blue hoodie over plain black slacks.

Letting him help her to her jacket, Lacey shook her head in exasperation. “Why can’t you just admit you’ve seen the movie.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” came the offended voice behind her.

“Whatever,” Lacey grabbed for her keys on the counter. “Let’s go. I need a drink.”

\--

“Lacey!”

Turning, Lacey found Ariel barreling towards her in the crowd, towing a rather embarrassed Eric behind her. Dressed in a black strapless dress with a sewed on pink ribbon done one side, Ariel had Cady’s party look down cold. Eric beside her, looked completely normal, other than a pink sign that declared, ‘ _I look sexy with my hair pushed back.’_

“Nice,” Lacey nodded at both of them with a teasing smile. “You guys look awesome.”

“I’m going to get a beer,” Eric said, leaning down so they could hear him over the crush. “You guys want anything?”

After assuring him they were fine, he disappeared just as Ruby made her way towards them, A baby black teddy half complete with a pink bow covered her body and a pair of fluffy mouse ears sat nestled in her hair. She neared them with a huge smile. Her hand already pointed to her head as she drawled, “I’m a mouse. Duh.”

Ariel clapped her hands together in excitement, glancing around for the final member of the quartet. “This is perfect! I helped Mary Margret dress up as Gretchen!”

“Four for you Glen CoCo!” Someone shouted from behind them. “You go Glen Coco!”

Archie appeared beside them, looking harried in his usual clothes, the small breast cancer awareness ribbon almost lost on his suit jacket. “Why does everyone keep saying that to me?” He asked them, bewildered as another person passing by, clapped him on the back.

“No idea,” Ruby said, with an innocent shrug. “Did you see Mary Margret by any chance?”

Archie turned to scan the room and Ariel had to clap her hands to her mouth to silence her bark of laughter. Someone had pinned a piece of paper to the back of Archie’s suit jacket, proclaiming him to be the famed Glen CoCo.

“I think she’s over by the bar,” Archie said turning back to them. “We’ve been trying to ditch the guy in the Santa costume all night,” He confessed to them. “He keeps giving me candy canes and behaving extremely rudely to Miss Blanchard.”

“Seriously?” Ruby said, twisting to look back the way Archie had pointed. “Who dressed as Santa?”

“Ho, Ho, Ho, MERRY CHRISTMAS,” came the booming voice from across the room and Archie went pale.

“I don’t know,” he said. “But I don’t want to find out.” And he disappeared into the crush, his small sign flapping behind him.

“Nice,” Lacey said to Ruby with a grin. “But we should go rescue Mary Margret before Gold finds her.”

“Gold’s here?” Ruby asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Yea, well, your grandmother did ask me to invite him,” Lacey grumbled, looking over to where Granny Lucas was standing by the counter. She had on a green vest dripping with math pun buttons and first place ribbons and a striped button up beneath it. “She wouldn’t give me my burger until I spilled the beans about the man in my life.”

“Oops,” Ruby murmured.

“Yea, oops is right,” Lacey growled. “I don’t need any more people thinking he’s my boyfriend-“

“Hey,” Ariel interrupted, peering over by the door. “Did someone invite the Nolans?”

“No,” Ruby said with a frown. “Why?”

“Cause they’re here,” Lacey answered for her, watching as David helped take his wife’s coat off as he scanned the crowd.

“Shit,” Ruby groaned. “What are they doing here?”

“I believe,” Gold responded smoothly, sliding up to them with drinks in his hand. “ That Mrs. Lucas invited the football couch because he has her cater his end of season party every year. He may have passed on the invitation to Mrs. Nolan.”

“And Mr. Nolan?” Lacey growled.

“Well, they are married,” Gold responded calmly. Lacey had to resist the urge to pull of his sunglasses and stomp on them. “I understand married couples often do things together.”

“Hey, sorry that took so long,” Eric sidled back up to them. His eyes fell on Gold and he held his free hand out. “You must be Gold, I’ve heard a lot about you.”

Gold stared at him for a moment before turning to Lacey and asking, “Who is this now?”

Torn between damage control of a visibly upset Ariel and a bewildered Eric and the ticking time bomb of locating Mary Margret, Lacey only managed an incoherent noise. Thankfully, whatever God there was did not find it fit to give her an aneurysm at the time. A brunette head appeared just over the Ariel’s shoulder, complete with a hot pink sweater top and a golden patterned skirt. The outfit itself was rather school teacherish, but the hand placed sequin beads spelling out ‘ _Fetch_ ’ across the chest was clearly an original touch.

“Mary Margret!” Ruby sighed in relief, slinging an arm over her. “There you are!”

“I’ve been here the entire time,” Mary Margret told her with a confused look. “I met your friend Victor,” she said aside to Lacey. “He’s uh… not very subtle.”

Lacey watched as David’s eyes fell upon their group. Gold, playing oblivious, raised his hand in welcome and David came towards them, making his way awkwardly through a crowd. He was dressed as a high school football player, complete with pink hand warmers and shin guards. “Hey! What do you say about getting a drink?” Lacey suggested.

“I’m good,” Mary Margret said, fanning herself. “Victor bought me a double shot and I’m still- David?”

Stopping awkwardly in front of them, he smiled at her. “Hey,” he greeted, oblivious to the rest of them. “Wow. You look-“

“David?”

Ariel’s eyes were like saucers as a blonde wearing a playboy bunny outfit flitted up to him, eyes glancing behind her as the man dressed as Santa Clause reeled drunkenly through the crowed. Lacey grasped Mary Margret’s other arm, trying to pull her away but the diminutive woman stood firm, wrenching her arm away as her chin lifted to meet the oncoming storm.

“Oh, there you are,” the woman who must be Kathryn Nolan said in relief. “I wanted you to meet someone.”

“Kathryn,” David said, eyes not leaving Mary Margret’s. “I believe you know Miss Blanchard?”

Kathryn‘s eyes went wide for a moment but she nodded gamely, offering Mary Margret a small nod. “I believe so. From the school, right?” she asked. It was obvious to everyone in the circle, the blonde was clearly uncertain about the situation at hand.

“That’s right,” Mary Margret said coolly. “I believe you know one of my fellow staff members, Jim Fredrick?”

Ruby took a drink of her beer as Ariel edged closer to Eric and further out of line of fire. Gold stood beside her, eyes hidden behind his damnable glasses but his lips were curled ever so slightly upwards.

At the moment, it was up to a tie to which Nolan was more uncomfortable. David had turned on odd chartreuse color and Kathryn was visibly sweating. “Yes, he’s an old family friend,” she stammered. Trying to regroup, she chose a more direct approach as well. “And how do you know my husband?”

That was the wrong thing to say. Picking up the gauntlet, Mary Margret barely faltered. “’I’ve been sleeping with him for a year now,” Mary Margret replied as if discussing the weather.

Lacey felt her jaw drop open even as Ruby choked on her beer. David’s face went beet red even as the playboy rabbit went completely white. “But you knew that,” the small schoolteacher continued. “Seeing how you took full advantage of the situation to continue your affair with Jim.”

As if fate decided to illustrate timing was everything, an inebriated Jim Frederick stumbled up behind the Nolans to throw his arms over the two of them. Dressed in a gym teacher’s tracksuit, he had a whistle between his lips and bleated it once or twice before letting it drop. “Hey!” He smiled winningly. “Hell of a party, isn’t it?”

Kathryn broke first. She twisted from underneath Jim’s arm and disappeared into the crowd. David spared one last look at Mary Margret before he followed after her, leaving a visibly confused Jim standing in the circle of stunned silent revelers. “Okay, then,” he said uncomfortably and disappeared in the other direction.

“About that drink,” Mary Margret said. “I think I’ll have it now.” She pushed past them all and headed back towards the beverage area, Ruby following belatedly in her wake.

Ariel was hurriedly whispering to Eric, explaining the situation as Archie looped up to them, drinks in hand as he asked, “What’d I miss?”

“Oh,” Gold murmured pleasantly. “Nothing of importance.”

Lacey was slightly disinclined to disagree with him but he handed her another full drink from midair and she accepted it gratefully. Perhaps there were perks to bringing demons to parties after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the lack of updates, I caught a bad chest cold and was down for the count between work, real life and a fic exchange for halloween that I decided to revamp at the last minute. 
> 
> Anyways, I hope you guys enjoyed this weird little cold medicine dreamed up story. It was vastly entertaining to write while hyped up on DayQuil...


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lacey unconsciously manifests some signs of her true nature.

_October 25, 2015_

Kicked back on the couch, Neal watched as Lacey reached for her fourth glass of wine and marveled at how obtuse mortals truly were. Ruby had invited him over for dinner, still guilty over forgetting to invite him to some fundraiser thing the night before. He hadn’t minded the slight, especially when Lacey had shared the fact that his father had apparently been in attendance.

“So, explain,” Ruby handed him a beer as she sat back down on the couch between them. “How does this whole demon thing work?”

Neal nearly spit out his drink. “Geez, Ruby,” a few drops dripped down his chin. Lacey handed him a napkin from the coffee table. “Glad you asked. It’s not at all mystical millennium old manifestos with strict taboos regarding mortals.”

“Oh, stop being dramatic,” Lacey complained, kicking her heels off to bring her feet underneath her. He saw goose bumps raise along her arm as she reached for a nearby blanket. The sound of the floor heater switched on in the background. Neal glanced over at the blatantly unplugged in appliance now humming to life. “If the whole thing is so secret, how come I have a demon living on my couch and living to annoy me and terrify my friends?”

“Because,” Neal grumbled. “Papa doesn’t play by the rules. That’s exactly the problem. In the old day’s, he could do stuff like this. But in today’s day and age, things don’t work that way anymore. If someone caught sight of him back in 1776, there’d been no way to prove it. Now, everyone and their mom has a cell phone camera and access to the internet.”

Ruby made a small noise and pulled out her phone. She flipped it around to reveal a photo from what appeared to be last night. “I saw this online this morning,” she shared, handing the phone to him. Lacey craned over to look at it with him. “I thought it was just the lighting but-“

It was a picture of Ruby, Lacey and two other women that Neal did not recognize. Archie was in the background and another dark haired man stood just off to the side, almost cut out of the picture. It was a perfectly normal picture if one did not count the odd figure with a hoodie pulled to reveal a small round circle of his face and a pair of aviators taking up the top half. Not that the outfit itself was odd- it was the gaping black rotted teeth and the golden glittering skin pulled taught in a jack o lantern smile.

“Fuck,” Neal groaned, back peddling to find the link was someone’s Instagram page. “He posed for a photo?”

“What’s the big deal?” Lacey asked, grabbing the phone out of his hand. “It’s Halloween, no one probably even noticed.”

Neal had to resist the urge to bury his head in his hands. “The big deal,” he said tightly. “is he’s going to draw the attention of one of the daemon. If they knew what he was up to-“

“Yea, Neal. What’s exactly is he up to?” Lacey demanded, lowering the phone. “And don’t tell me it’s a deal for my soul. He should have gotten tired of this charade months ago. I’ve said I wish more times than I can count and he just ignores it. What’s he playing at?”

Neal coughed, scratching his stubble absently. “Well, uh,” he stammered, casting about for something to say other than ‘well, you’re actually a witch, and there’s this whole witch’s as sworn enemies of demons thing you don’t know a thing about and Papa wants your soul to prove his dominance over mortals, mystics and demons. But hang in there, you’re doing great.’

“He’s trying to save face,” he finally blurted out. Lacey blinked at him from over Ruby’s shoulder and he shrugged. “Yea, you know how these things are. He got summoned accidently, should have been a routine deal exchange but obviously you weren’t interested and he’s kind of in a awkward situation now.”

“He’s in an awkward situation?” Lacey deadpanned back to him. “Meanwhile, I have a demon who just discovered Netflix cohabiting my flat.”

“Wait a minute,” Ruby interrupted, getting up to head to the kitchen. “Rewind. What’s a daemon?”

In a last ditch effort to avoid this conversation; he pulled a face at her. “Hey, can you grab me another slice of pizza?” Neal asked and Ruby nodded, looking to Lacey who held up her still full wine glass.

“I’m good,” Lacey told her. Ruby nodded, pouring herself the rest of the wine. Neal wondered if Ruby ever noticed that Lacey always had a full drink. Better yet, he wondered if Lacey had ever noticed. She certainty didn’t seem to find it weird that she lived in a condemned building and yet had managed to get utilities somehow. Or that she didn’t have a job but always managed to hustle enough cash a month for groceries. Better yet, he wondered why none of her friends ever noticed the semi-charmed life Miss French lived.

“Ok,” Ruby said, returning to hand him a still warm slice of Gepetto’s famous pepperoni. “You were saying?”

He bit into the slice, weighing what he could share without violating any of the Unspoken Laws. “You guys know how companies have contracts to make sure their employees can’t talk about the business with competitors? “

“Inside trading?” Lacey suggested.

Neal shrugged. “Close enough. Okay, well the daemons are the guys who enforce that for demons.”

“Lawyers,” Ruby clarified.

“If lawyers are the things that go bump in the night,” Neal said. “Then, yea sure.”

“Not far off,” Lacey chuckled into her glass.

Neal shot her a look. It was very well and good for her to sit there and laugh but the matter was, if a daemon did find the Dark One residing with a witch, things would get incredibly volatile. Storybrooke being wiped off the map a la Sodom, volatile.

“This isn’t a goddamn joke,” Neal told them sternly. Both women blinked at his language, shooting each other glances. “Daemons don’t mess around. If a demon is found violating any of the Unspoken Laws, they’re well within their right to banish them.”

“Banish?” Lacey replied with a raised eyebrow. “That doesn’t sound so bad.”

“Tell that to a magically stripped demon stuck in the other realms who is now fair game to everyone and thing he has ever pissed off.”

Ruby on the other hand was still playing catch up. “Unspoken laws?”

“Set of rules and treaties between magicals, mystics and mortals,” Neal summed up. “Most of it’s fairly boring.”

“Doesn’t sound it,” Ruby whistled.

“Google it sometime,” Neal suggested. “After the fourth page of badly translated Latin hosted on Angelfire, you’ll get pretty tired of it.”

“Angelfire is still up?”

“Lacey, will you please focus?” Ruby sighed, tossing a throw cushion at her. “Unspoken laws, daemons, demons and- what was the third one?”

“Mystics,” Neal said carefully, avoiding Lacey’s gaze. “Witches mostly.”

“Witches?” Lacey hooted, raising a hand to stop him. “You’re telling me there’s actually real life witches?”

“Sworn enemies of demons and guardians of the gates to the other realms,” Neal summarized. “Daemons have no powers over them which is where the whole Unspoken Law thing comes into play.”

“Was that fortune teller in Salem a witch?” Lacey asked. Ruby, rabidly curious, tried to interrupt but Lacey hushed her.

“Mal?” Neal said. “Yea, Mal’s a witch. Reason four hundred and fifty two why Papa hates her.”

“What about you?” Ruby managed to ask. “You’re not a demon, right?”

“I’m a halfbreed,” Neal shared. “I’m technically not supposed to exist.”

“You guys have rules about who you can marry?” Lacey said sardonically.

“More like mortals are incapable of laying with a demon without losing their lives,” he said calmly back, slightly enjoying the way the witch’s face paled. Ruby looked disappointed. “They tend to burst into flames and burn away into ash.”

“Well, there goes the whole you and Gold thing,” Ruby sighed in disappointment, causing Neal to choke on his pizza as he glared over at Lacey.

“You what!?” He said through a mouthful of peperoni pizza.

“Jesus, Ruby!” Lacey exclaimed, elbowing Ruby in the ribs. “What do I keep telling you people? I am not an insane person who is attracted to the demon harassing me!”

“You didn’t-“ Neal started, trying to avoid the mental picture. He had suspected something was going on but-

Lacey threw her hands up. “What did you just get finished saying?” She demanded. “If I had slept with your disgusting demonic father, I would have died, right?”

Neal’s shoulders sagged in relief as he nodded hurriedly. “Yea, right, sorry, just caught me by surprise is all.” He turned back to his pizza, trying to figure out a way to change the subject before things got any more uncomfortable.

“Well, wait,” Ruby said. “So, if witches hate demons, but mortals can’t you know, do it, with them. How do you explain you?”

Closing his eyes, Neal valiantly tried to hold on to the last frayed edges of his nerves. “My mother was a witch,” he said without looking over at them. “A prophetess to be specific.”

“But-“

“It was a long time ago,” Neal snapped. “The rules weren’t as strict as they are now.”

“One more question,” Ruby said, ignoring the warning signs of his white knuckles clenched around his beer. “The mortals who made the laws-“

“Also known as the Catholic Church,” Neal finished for her. “Exorcism is a still widely practiced tool against demons who get too prominent. Not to mention, the inquisition and various other witch hunts which made sure mystics stayed in the minority through the ages.”

“Wow,” Ruby murmured, shaking her head. “This is unreal. What about vampires? Werewolves? Ghosts?”

“Why not ask about Elvis while we’re at it,” Lacey said under her breath.

Neal felt a headache coming on. With a groan, he shook his head and glanced up at the two of them. Ruby was bright eyed and bushy tailed, looking as if Christmas had come early. Lacey was glowering at the corner, obviously uneasy with the entire conversation.

“Look,” Neal offered. “If I answer five more questions, can we drop it for the night?”

“Sure!” Ruby agreed. She looked on the verge of asking those five questions without pausing for breath.

Neal cut her off smoothly. “Vampires are immortals like me, halfbreeds. The whole bat and blood thing was some idiot’s attempt to make us flashier. Werewolves are cursed mortals, no one’s exactly sure what happened there but take it from me, it’s no way to live. As far as ghosts, they’re mystical souls who are unable or unwilling to cross the gate.”

Ruby blinked and Lacey took another sip of her still full wine glass. “As far as Elvis,” Neal finished. “He had a hell of a deal but that’s all I can say on that.”

“That’s only four!” Ruby counted. “We get one more!”

Neal nodded. “Okay, ask away. But then we’re going to go back to drinking and watching television like normal people with no lives on a Saturday night.”

Ruby nodded, looking deep in thought as she tried to think of the best question to ask. Lacey however beat her to it. “Okay, fine. I have one,” Lacey said, crossing her legs. Neal eyed her cautiously. She appeared unaware of his unease. “What is your father doing exactly that violates the laws?” She held his eyes as she leaned forward. “And don’t tell me it’s because he wants my soul crap. You showing up in Storybrooke seemed odd in the first place, but now I’m wondering if you didn’t come to stop him from whatever he was doing. So, spill, Baelfire, heir apparent of the Dark Castle. Why is the Dark One in Storybrooke?”

“That’s two,” Ruby whispered but fell silent when Lacey glared at her. Neal nodded slowly, torn. His father had been a neglectful, spiteful bastard his entire life but if he told this witch her heritage, he was condemning them both. And God help him, he liked Lacey and all her sharp edges. They masked the loyal, devoted and intelligent nature she tried so hard to hide. It wasn’t her fault she was a witch, and who was he to change her life forever by telling her? If his father had never come to Storybrooke, she could have gone her whole life without ever knowing, free of the politics and games that went on in the unseen worlds.

Also, his father did seem to be genuinely trying lately. He had let two mortals live despite knowing his true face, had spent more time trying to be a father than he had in all the past millennia and oddest of all, he seemed to genuinely respect the witch. Lacey was right, he could have taken her soul on technicalities countless times already. But he hadn’t, and Neal honestly didn’t know why.

With a sigh, Neal let his head drop. “He’s showed himself to mortals without just cause. Their lives and his are now forfeit by demon law unless a deal is made for their souls.” Neal saw Ruby drain of color and he continued on in monotone. “He has been photographed, which is evidence of demon existence. Penalty for that is his exorcism at the hands of the mortals.” He noticed Lacey had gone still in her seat. “And lastly, a demon and a witch are sworn enemies. There have been some cases in the past where he has worked with them to get what he wants, but all magic comes with a price.”

For instance, his mother’s soul would have been his crowning achievement. But he had been born and the magic’s price had been his mother’s life. The Dark One had not reaped her soul, the magic had. He had been left empty handed and when Neal had rejected his demon heritage, he had further added insult to injury.

“However,” Neal continued. “He has been in recent company with a witch without attempts on her life. If any daemon found cause to investigate either of the first two claims, he would find adequate evidence of my father’s proclivities and to prevent any possible alliances between the two, he would banish my father and slaughter the witch in question without a second thought.”

“Who-“ Both women started but Neal held up his hand.

“No more questions, remember?”

The two of them looked at him in stunned silence before Ruby coughed and stood. “More wine. We need more wine.”

“I’m good,” Lacey mumbled as she reached for her still full glass. She looked spooked. Perhaps this was the first time since his father had appeared in her life, she questioned how safe it actually was to have a demon in her life. Neal simply grabbed for the remote and turned it on, searching for something to distract him from the burning sensation in his gut. He knew Ruby was standing in the kitchen staring out her window, lost in her own thoughts and he didn’t care.

They had asked him after all. Now they knew. Perhaps it might actually be for the greater good, he thought. After all, Lacey deserved to know.

Didn’t she?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys. I love this chapter. Like I wrote it and I was like,Yea. Okay. Dude, we have a plot. We have a stinking plot. This gem, this absolute marvel of a prompt sent once upon a time has matured into a fic with a plot. And how did it do that? You guys. You readers who sent in prompts and questions and reviewed it and wanted me to keep going with these crazy characters. Guys, I mean, this could be an actual real life sitcom. You helped me do that. You made it nuanced and gave it life and helped me create this world where a woman doesn't know she's a witch and summons a demon who decides to play a long con and has a son who is a halfbreed with issues and a bunch of mortals get caught in the cross hairs- all while going to mean girl parties and grocery shopping and drinking. 
> 
> God, I love you guys. I hope you freaking loves this chapter. Buckle in, Halloween's right around the corner.


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lacey's Lineage.

_October 26, 2015_

When Lacey staggered into her apartment at a quarter past noon the next day, she found someone waiting for her.

It just wasn’t the person she had expected it to be.

“Belle?”

“Dad?” Lacey echoed back. “What- What are you doing here?”

Her father looked disheveled. His clothes were wrinkled and his hair had an odd crease to it. She glanced over at the couch and saw someone had slept on it. “When did you-?”

“Got in last night,” Maurice French said with a shrug. He had helped himself to her coffee supply, a mug sitting before him with one of the bagels she had bought for Neal the last time he had stayed. “I tried to call-“

“Changed my number,” Lacey remembered. “Some creep won’t take no for an answer.”

“Belle,” her father sighed and she winced.

“It’s Lacey, Papa,” she reminded him. “Remember?”

He glanced down at his coffee, nodding slowly. “Right. I didn’t realize you were still calling yourself that.”

“Lots of people go by their middle name,” Lacey grumbled as she moved towards the other side of the kitchen. She noticed someone had thrown away all the empty bottles and half eaten take out. Queenie was conspicuously absent. “Hey, have you seen my cat?”

“You have a cat?” Maurice puzzled, glancing down under the table. “Since when?”

“Couple of weeks, I guess,” Lacey said absently. She moved towards the bed, swooping the blankets back to see if the cat was hiding out there somewhere. Ignoring her father’s well meaning fumbling attempts to clean, she still was unable to find Queenie. “Dad, did you leave the door open?”

“I may have,” Maurice thought out loud. “Maybe when I took the trash out last night?”

“Jesus, Dad,” Lacey groaned, grabbing for her keys. “She could be anywhere by now!”

“Language!” Her father scolded as she moved past him. “What would your mother say-“

“Not a lot, considering that’s she dead,” Lacey growled under her breath. She glanced over hers shoulder just in time to see her father’s face fall and she stopped by the door. “Look, I’m sorry,” she said, toeing the doorjamb. “I just didn’t expect you and this isn’t really a great time.”

“I see,” Maurice said quietly. He bowed his head and returned to his seat at the table. “Maybe if you called once in a while, I may have known that.”

Lacey groaned, resisting the urge to kick the door. With one last glance at freedom, she moved back to plop down at the opposite chair and crossed her arms on the table. “You’re right,” she said without looking up at him. “I should have called. I just didn’t have anything to really say.”

“Sometimes hello is a good start,” Maurice said quietly. She didn’t respond to this; just let the sound of the clock chime in with its ticks and tocks. She stole a glance at her father, noticing the lines heavier around his eyes and the grey hair that was growing wilder and wilder, as it grew straight up instead of down.

“How’s work?” She finally managed, trying to sound interested.

She saw his face brighten a moment. “New patent pending on this new device,” he said eagerly. “Should be the next big thing. It’s got to do with cars, you see.”

Lacey tuned out the usual mumble of technical jargon, excited enthusiasms and wordy descriptions. She felt exhaustion creeping up on her, last night’s activities catching up with her. After Ruby’s, she hadn’t felt like going home. So, she had gone to the Rabbit Hole to meet up with Leroy. They played pool until three in the morning. Still not ready to go home, she had gone back and crashed on his couch. She liked Leroy, he didn’t ask a lot of questions. He had just shrugged and thrown her a pillow.

Finally, she realized her father had stopped talking. She looked over, raised an eyebrow and went, “Hmm. Sounds cool.”

Her father stared back at her, disappointment obvious on his aged face. “I should go,” he sighed, moving to stand up. “This was obviously a mistake.”

As tired as she was, Lacey felt a small stab of anger flash through her. “Sure, go ahead and leave,” she grumbled, fully aware she was being grossly unfair. “You just waited all night for me to come home.” A thought occurred to her and she looked up at him suspiciously. “How did you get in, anyways?”

“Your friend let me in,” Maurice said. “Odd fellow, said his name was-“

“Gold,” Lacey groaned, letting her head fall into her crossed arms. Perfect. The demon had met her father. Just wonderful!

“Actually, his name was Archie,” Maurice said after a pause. “Redhead. Had an umbrella for some odd reason.”

“Archie?” Lacey asked, head popping up. “But what was he-“

Her father was staring at her in some confusion but she stopped herself, shaking her head. “Never mind,” she said. “I crashed at a friend’s last night, so I’m kind of out of it. Can we do dinner later?”

Her father’s lips tightened at the mention of a ‘friend’ but he nodded tersely. “I have a few errands I can run around town,” he said. “I was going to head back home this afternoon but it can wait for a bit.”

“Five at Granny’s?” Lacey said, checking the clock. It was just past one, which gave her some time to shower and take a nap. “You can’t miss it, down on Main Street.”

After they agreed on time and place, Maurice let himself out. “Just for the record,” he said, stopping in the open doorway. “I know I’m just your father but,” he turned to look at her. “You should really consider finding a nicer place.”

He left and Lacey managed to pick herself up and head off to the bathroom. She spared one last look around her small studio before closing the door behind her.

\--

“Dad,” Lacey gritted through her teeth. “For the last time, I am not dating Archie.”

“Oh well,” her father shrugged as he helped himself to more ketchup. “I just don’t understand why he was in your place when you weren’t home.”

Lacey smiled tightly. She had called her neighbor after her nap and asked what the hell had he been thinking letting her father inside without even calling her.

“The demon made me do it!” He had said harassed. “He demanded I bring him pizza and then he wanted to watch a movie-“

“This is not If You Give a Mouse a Cookie, Archie,” Lacey had hissed through the phone. “Where did he get to last night?”

“I turned around and he was gone!” Archie had said shrilly. “I had to make small talk with your father for thirty minutes before I got out of there.”

“And you didn’t think to call me?” Lacey had asked of him. After a few stutters and starts, Archie had apologized; not knowing their history he had assumed she knew her father was coming for a visit.

“He has a key to feed Queenie when I’m out,” Lacey lied to her father. “I went straight from work to Ruby’s.”

“Oh?” Her father looked up curiously. “What are you doing these days?”

Lacey blinked. She cast about for something, when her eye fell on a nearby patron reading what appeared to be library book. “Librarian,” she fibbed, twitching her shoulders. “Yea, downtown at the public library.”

“Wonderful!” Maurice said heartily, reaching over to clasp her hand. “And you said you didn’t have any news!”

Lacey softened, smiling slightly back at him. Her father had always believed in her. He had offered to take out loans for her college tuition, offered to get job interviews at his company and even volunteered to help her with her homework back in school. She just didn’t have a lot of faith in herself.

“Yea, well,” she mumbled. “Not glamorous. “

“It’s wonderful,” he repeated, squeezing her hand. “Anything else exciting?”

“Uh,” Lacey said, thinking for a moment. “Not really. Just-“

Her eyes fell on him just as Maurice noticed him as well. A dapper dressed older man in a black suit appeared at the door, catching her eye and raising his hand in greeting.

“Oh, no,” she murmured even as Gold appeared at the table, holding his hand out to Maurice.

“You must be Lacey’s father,” Gold greeted. “I’m Gold.”

“Uh, nice to meet you,” Maurice said gamely back, taking his hand. “I’m sorry I didn’t realize someone was joining us…”

“Well, Lacey and I had plans later,” Gold said, shooting her a wink. “But I thought I’d stop by and say hello before you left town.”

“By all means join us,” Maurice said, indicating the spot beside Lacey. Gold nodded as he moved to sit. Lacey simply shot him an icy look but he ignored it, practically sitting in her lap until she scooted over. She could still hear Neal telling her about the laws and she tried to relax despite the odd chill that was running down her spine.

“Gold and I are-“

“Business partners,” DoDo supplied easily.

“Oh, you work at the library too?” Maurice asked, reaching for a fry. DoDo turned to her, a smile on his face.

“Something like that,” he said merrily. “But enough about me, you two were in the middle of catching up.”

“Maybe you’ll be able to tell me,” Maurice said. “I’m sure you know how private my daughter tends to be, but are there any men in her life?”

“Dad!”

“Oh, sorry,” Maurice said quickly. “Or women?”

Lacey groaned, letting her eyes fall shut as she tried not to bury her head in her hands.

“Not at the moment,” Gold said, shaking his head.

“Shame,” her father sighed. “She’s such a pretty girl, I don’t understand it.”

“Mystery to me too,” Gold agreed and Lacey elbowed him under the table. The waitress came by to check to see if Gold needed anything, lingering a bit too long as she batted her eyes at him. When she left, Gold turned back to her father, looking at him carefully. “So, Mr. French,” he said amicably. “What brings you to Storybrooke?”

Lacey glanced up from her fries at this. She had been wondering the same thing; she just hadn’t gotten the nerve to ask him yet. Her father for his part looked uncomfortable for a moment before he cleared his throat. “Well, the thing is, I’m moving to Florida at the end of the year.”

“Oh?” Gold said neutrally.

“Yes, and well, I had a business trip over in the town just north of here this week and I thought I’d tell you in person, since you know, you changed your number and never bothered to let me know the new one.”

Lacey cut in. “What about the house?”

Maurice nodded. “Well, I’ll be putting it up for sale here soon. If you want anything-“

“Mom’s stuff,” Lacey said quickly. “I want Mom’s stuff.”

Maurice nodded, swallowing hard before glancing back down at his half eaten burger. “You can stop by sometime and pick it up?”

“I will,” Lacey said thickly. “That is if you don’t mind?”

“No,” Maurice shook his head. “You should have it. I didn’t think you wanted it…”

DoDo looked curiously back and forth for a moment. Lacey sighed. “My mom passed when I was fourteen,” she said tightly. “Car wreck. We didn’t,” she paused and took a deep breath. “We didn’t handle it very well. I got my GED and came to Storybrooke for college.”

“My wife didn’t have any living family,” Maurice explained. “And I didn’t feel right going through her things so, I just packed them up and put them in the spare room.”

“I’ll come home and get them in December, okay?” Lacey said, playing with her napkin. “Help you pack for Florida maybe.”

“I’d like that,” Maurice said. Lacey nodded and looked back down at her lap. DoDo stayed mercifully silent before he asked a few short questions to Maurice, mostly about jobs and Florida before the check came. Gold paid it, refusing Maurice’s protests as he handed the blushing waitress cash and told her to keep the change.

They made their way outside, and Lacey drew her coat closer around her as she turned to her father. “It was nice seeing you,” she said and found she meant it. “You’ve got my new number and I’ll call you sometime, okay?”

“Okay,” Maurice said, and he opened his arms for a hug. Lacey stared for a moment before she stepped in to it, letting him envelop her as she patted his back awkwardly. When they broke apart, Maurice shook hands with Gold before they said their final goodbyes.

AS they shuffled their way home, Lacey noticed DoDo stayed in Gold’s façade, staying quiet as he fell in step beside her. “Neal knows about Gold, you know,” she told him. “He didn’t seem as mad as I thought he’d be.” The Dark One nodded, his silver hair shining the lamps they passed under. “Families are hard,” Lacey said softly. “Thanks for not making it harder.”

He didn’t say anything, just nodded and kept walking. It wasn’t until they got back to their place and closed the door that he dropped Gold’s façade. Queenie, appearing from thin air, came meowing to greet them as Lacey took her jacket off.

“Now,” DoDo sighed, collapsing on the couch. “There is one thing I wanted to address.”

Lacey braced herself.

He smiled wickedly, already savoring this, as he uttered, “Belle, was it?”


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Why was Lacey reading that particular book? What was the price for Keith's disappearance?  
> This was asked by a few of you in comments and TMI Tuesdays.

_October 27, 2015_

It was quiet.

Much too quiet, Lacey thought as her heels echoed loudly across the marble entryway. As if agreeing with her, a hawkish woman looked up from the desk and glared at her from over her half moon spectacles. Lacey returned the glare with equal fervor. The echoing clacking now wholly satisfying even as a few other patrons turned from the stacks to look for the source of the noise.

Storybrooke Public Library was not entirely new to Lacey. She often came and spent time here when she wanted free Internet or printer access. Sometimes she just liked to come in and read, enjoying the company of others without having to talk to anyone. The library allowed you to just sit and be without any silly requirements like to actually buy the book or buy a cup of coffee.

She slid up to the desk, and the disapproving woman barely glanced up as she muttered,” Can I help you?”

“Yea,” Lacey nodded. “I checked out a book a few months ago and I can’t remember the title.”

The woman didn’t even look up. “Name?”

Lacey went to answer and then paused. “Mine or the author’s?”

The woman didn’t move a muscle but her eyes flicked up at her. “Your name,” she sighed in exasperation. Lacey forgot about her nerves as she grew quickly irritated.

“Lacey,” she ground out. “Lacey French.”

A flurry of typing and clicking commenced until the librarian finally drawled,” Your last check out was _The Duke and I_ on April the 6th-“

“That’s not right,” Lacey interrupted, trying to peer over the counter to check the screen. The librarian exclaimed in outrage, pulling the screen down and glaring at her as if she was six. “Look, I know that’s not what I checked out-“

“Hmm,” the woman murmured at her and Lacey’s fingers curled tighter around the counter top. “It’s not a crime, you know,” the woman said shortly. “To enjoy a good romance.”

“I know that,” Lacey said. “I just know that’s not what I checked out in April. It was about magic-“  
  
“Harry Potter?” The woman supplied as if it was second nature. “Children’s section. Author is Rowling- that’s R-O-W-“

“No, I own Harry Potter,” Lacey cut her off. “Everyone knows Harry Potter. It wasn’t a children’s book.”

The librarian inhaled sharply, looking extremely put out. “Miss, I’ll have to ask you not to raise your voice.”

“I didn’t-“

“I’m afraid I have other people to help,” the librarian interjected curtly. Lacey turned to find no one waiting behind her.

“Are you serious?”

“If I can help you with anything else,” the librarian said politely and went back to clicking and clacking on her keyboard. Lacey stood there, mouth slightly open as she glared at the woman. A small name tag brightly polished identified her as M. Goose.

“Fine,” Lacey growled. “I’ll find it myself.”

“Library closes in fifteen minutes,” M. Goose said to Lacey’s back. Gritting her teeth, she kept walking.

Ten minutes later, Lacey was kneeling in front of the paranormal section of the library, glancing at the last book on Wiccan practices. She sat back on her heels defeated. “The hell are you?” she whispered to the stacks, letting her fingers trail over the various spines.

She had tried to remember where she had found the book the first time but all she could remember was noticing it as she had been leaving, checking it out just for the hell of it. She couldn’t even recall if it had been on a shelf or just sitting out some place. Besides, DoDo had said he returned it but who knew if he had actually done so just burned the damn thing.

Sighing, she got to her feet. A quick glance at her phone indicated the library would be closing in five minutes and she didn’t feel much like going toe to toe with that woman again. Turning, she headed down the aisle, already planning on coming back in the morning when she stopped.

There, in the middle of the cookbooks, was a familiar book cover. Lacey reached up for it, tilting it down with a finger on the top of it and fell into her waiting hands.

“ _A Modern Guide to Witchcraft and Wizardry_ ,” the cover proclaimed. Underneath the title, there a simple illustration of a silhouetted woman and man, standing back to back. The cover itself was silver matte, hardbound with no dust jacket. Lacey flipped it open, finding the page that was slightly burnt from the fire that had summoned DoDo.

“What are you doing over here?” she asked it, glancing back up at the cookbooks. She couldn’t’ see where it had come from now, the gap must have closed when she had pulled it free. With a shrug, she headed to the counter and found four or five people waiting, mostly with children who were loudly proclaiming their excitement for their finds.

Lacey glanced back down at the book. Carefully, she put it under her arm and made a beeline for the exit. She felt M. Goose’s stare on her for a brief moment but she made the exit without any beeping alarm going off indicating she was making off with one of the goods.

Flushed with her success, she made it back out to the street. She flipped her hood up, glancing up at the misting sky of late October. She pulled the book into her jacket and zipped it up to prevent it from getting wet. With one last glance around, she headed towards the one place she knew DoDo would never look for her.

\--

As the nondescript door swung open, Lacey called out an excited and utterly too high pitched “Hey!”

“Lacey?” Mary Margret looked extremely confused, holding her door open with a streak of flour on her cheek. Lacey smiled tightly, holding out a bottle of wine she had grabbed on her way over as an offering.

“I brought wine!” Lacey declared as she moved past the still speechless young woman.

“That’s nice,” Mary Margret said, taking it and following her into her loft. “But I didn’t-“

“I was actually hoping,” Lacey said, glancing over at the rather spacious area with its open floor plan and exposed brick. “To find a place to catch up on some of my reading and I thought- hey! Who else likes reading-?”

“Uh,” Mary Margret blinked at her in bewilderment, still holding the wine bottle like a hand grenade.

“A teacher!” Lacey said with a grin, going over to the kitchen counter where cookies were cooling. Homemade icing was in the process of being whipped and more cookies were baking in the oven. “Man,” Lacey nodded appreciatively. “You really go all out with your cookies. I just buy the prepackaged ones from the store.”

Mary Margret seemed to come to herself, walking over to check the oven before she offered, “Would you like one?”

“Sure!” Lacey said, pulling out a barstool. “I brought moscato, you seemed like someone who would like moscato.”

Mary Margret shot her one of those knowing looks as she got down some wine glasses from a cabinet. “I like red wines too,” she informed her.

“Vodka too if I remember right,” Lacey chuckled, remembering the Halloween party vividly. Mary Margret did too it seemed, although not fondly. At the word vodka, she grimaced.

“Yea, not my best moment,” she sighed. “I can’t believe I said that to Kathryn…”

“David still hasn’t called?” Lacey asked, taking her book out of her jacket and putting it on the other bar stool.

The brunette exhaled, shaking her head. She looked over at her cell phone for a moment before she returned to icing the cookies. Lacey helped her out by grabbing the bottle and unscrewing the cap, carefully pouring two tall glasses and sliding one back to the baker.

“No,” Mary Margret said, taking her glass without looking. “Not that I blame him. I told him to it was over weeks ago but this time-“

“You did publicly announce both of their affairs to a room full of drunken adults dressed as high schoolers,” Lacey reminded her.

“Yea,” Mary Margret shrugged, but a smile was on her face. “It was worth that look on her face though.”

“Hey, that reminds me,” Lacey said, putting down her glass. “Where did you disappear off that night? We all went to the Rabbit Hole after but we couldn’t find you.”

The guilty blush that suffused her cheeks and the way she averted her head was familiar to Lacey. “You didn’t!” she crowed, reaching for a finished cookie. “With who?”

“God, Lacey,” Mary Margret mumbled. “Not that it’s any of of your business-“

“Leroy?” Lacey supplied, eyes widening.

“No!” Mary Margret yelled, before shaking her head. “Not that he’s not- it’s just, it’s Leroy, you know?”

Lacey nodded. “We almost made out once but then his beard kept making me giggle and we ended up just playing darts all night. But seriously, who else-“ Lacey paused, looking Mary Margret up and down before she whistled. “You went home with Victor, didn’t you?”

“How did you-“

Lacey grinned as Mary Margret looked at her in astonishment. “I thought I saw him ducking out the back door with some girl,” Lacey laughed. “Well, welcome to the club, Mary Margret.”

“There’s a club?” The other woman said aghast, her peter pan collar fluttering at her throat.

“Uh, yea,” Lacey told her, toasting her with her glass. “Victor isn’t exactly subtle in his conquests.”

“Oh god,” Mary Margret said, grabbing her wine and abandoning the cookies. “What if David finds out?”

“Let him,” Lacey said. “He’s married. Best thing you could do is move on.”

“But-“

Lacey stopped her, raising an eyebrow. “If the next words out of your mouth are I, love or him, I’m going to throw something at you.”

Mary Margret took a long drink. Lacey followed suit, before she grabbed another cookie. The apartment was silent, the smell of sugar cookies rising in the oven and the strong smell of sweet wine mixing pleasantly in the early evening.

“What about you?” Mary Margret said after a moment.

“Me?” Lacey said with a laugh. “Well, the usual. Booze, boys and books.”

“I didn’t know you read,” the other woman said curiously, softening the statement with a smile. “What are you reading currently?”

“Something seasonal,” Lacey said easily, flipping the book out. “Thought it looked interesting.”

Mary Margret peered at it, confusion on her face. “ _1001 Uses for Pumpkin in Baking_?”

Lacey glanced back at the book, still seeing the same silhouette and cover and hurriedly placed it back down on the other bar stool. “Yea,” she muttered. “Like I said, it’s seasonal.”

“Huh,” Mary Margret said. “Well, I have a great pumpkin pie recipe I can give you.”

As Mary Margret returned to baking, Lacey sat and talked with her for a bit. When the first wine bottle was finished, they moved to the couch where they opened another bottle, this one a dry chardonnay and continued to eat the cookies, completely forgetting about dinner.

As they laughed over some story about Ruby, Mary Margret stilled, glancing up at her with a guilty smile. “You know,” she said quietly. “I’m glad you came over.”

Lacey shrugged, glancing back at her book that was still lingering in the kitchen.

“No, I mean it,” Mary Margret sighed. “I didn’t really care for you…before.”

Lacey ignored the odd feeling in her chest. “Oh, no problem,” she said flippantly. “Lots of girls don’t like me.”

“But,” Mary Margret stated earnestly. “You’ve been so nice to me. I just feel bad. I shouldn’t have judged you without getting to know you. It’s really nice to be proven wrong about someone.”

Lacey stared at her and found the words missing from her tongue. “Yea,” she finally said, grabbing for her wine glass. “I know what you mean.”

Mary Margret smiled and settled back into the cushions, allowing for another comfortable silence to fall between the two of them. Lacey took another drink, feeling silently unsettled. Six months ago, she had been in her own little world. She had Ruby and Ariel as satellite friends; girls you saw occasionally and always promised to see more but never ended up calling. And there was her bar buddies, but none of them other than maybe Leroy were much fun when she was sober. Not to mention Archie, who was a mixture of an annoying neighbor and distant relative who always managed to hang in there not matter what crazy she was going through.

Now, she had a group of friends. She hadn’t noticed but she was sitting in this apartment, drinking wine and eating cookies on a Tuesday night instead of at the bar or back at home drinking alone while ordering take out. All because of a book and the thing it had summoned into her life.

“Hey,” she said after a moment. “I probably should go. I haven’t been home since this morning and Queenie’s probably hungry.”

Mary Margret nodded, checking the bottle to find it empty. “Thanks for coming over,” she said sincerely as she stood and followed Lacey to the kitchen. Gathering her things, she found Mary Margret pressing a take away container in her hand, still warm from the oven.

“I was going to bring them to school, but there’s not enough for everyone and I don’t want to eat the rest by myself,” she explained cheerfully. Lacey took them with a thank you, knowing between Archie and DoDo they would not go to waste.

Mary Margret went to grab a store bag, handing it to Lacey to carry her things home. “I know this probably isn’t any of my business,” Mary Margret said, chewing her lip nervously. Lacey stilled, realizing her friend had something she had been trying to say all night. “But I thought…Ruby mentioned something once to me about a guy you were seeing that wasn’t a very good guy and I was wondering-“

“Keith was nothing like Victor,” Lacey assured her, reaching out to take her hand. “Victor’s a horn dog but he’s harmless. Keith was a manipulative and violent jack ass and I’m lucky I realized that before things went any further than one bad date and a few fumbles under the pool table.”

Mary Margret looked relieved. “I just didn’t know how to tell him I didn’t want to continue anything…”

“Believe me,” Lacey squeezed her hand. “He’ll be fine. Might try a little harder to convince you to go for round two but he can take no for an answer.”

“What happened with your guy?” Mary Margret asked, lingering by the front door. Lacey recognized that the brunette wasn’t quite ready for her to go and she felt a little comforted by the thought. However, she did want to look over that book closer. It was obviously magical, having shifted to be two different titles based on who had looked at it.

Lacey shrugged. “He got some weird disease or something according to Victor,” she recalled. “Sent him down to Boston to see a specialist and he ended up moving there full time for treatments. Haven’t heard from him since.”

“Wow,” Mary Margret whispered. “Talk about getting what you deserve. Anyways, I’m really glad you decided to stop by.”

Suddenly, Mary Margret had her arms around her and Lacey found for the second time in two days, wrapped in a hug. She blinked, her bag crushed between them before her free hand patted the other woman on the back until she let her go.

“Me too,” Lacey said, turning in the hallway. “Oh and Mary Margret,” the other woman tilted her head as she stilled closing the door. “If you ever need anything…”

“I’ll let you know,” the other woman said with a smile before closing the door softly behind her.

Lacey found herself standing in the empty hallway of the lofts, clutching a bag with cookies, her purse and a magical book which may or may not hold answers to questions she didn’t even know yet. Switching it to her other hand, she made her way to the elevator. It was time to go home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AH! Okay, guys, I wanted to share with my A03 readers my schedule for the next few months. We have three more updates for the House Guest this month to celebrate Dark-a-Thon. I can hint tomorrow's will have DoDo in his demon form. 
> 
> Thanks everyone for reading and reviewing.


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Everybody compliments DoDo on his wonderful Halloween costume.

_October 28, 2015_

The Annual Storybrooke Pumpkin Patch Dance was world renowned for being the most boring fall festival in the entire northern hemisphere. Or at least, that’s what Lacey decided as she stood in the cold autumn night air.

At least the company wasn’t bad. “I can’t believe you came to this,” Ruby remarked, handing over the flask they had smuggled in to the gates.

“Me neither,” Lacey murmured, throwing a shot back. The fireball burned pleasantly down the back of her throat, and she handed it back to Ruby. “Think she’ll notice if we leave early?”

“Hey guys,” Leroy muttered, sidling up next to them. “Can you believe this crap?”

“Be nice,” Ariel advised. The other three shot her a look, which only made her clutch Eric’s arm tighter. Her dark haired date grimaced in agreement over her head. “The kids work really hard to put this together every year.”

Lacey looked up at the flimsy banner side over the pumpkin patch in question, splattered with paint and handprints. The writing was too scrawled to even read what it was trying to say. “Yea,” she said aside to Ruby. “Speaking of which-“

“You guys came!”

Mary Margret was grinning happily, her cheeks and nose bright red from the cool wind. She was dressed as a pumpkin, a too large orange jersey with a jack o lantern face and a cute little beret with a stem and leaf in her hair. Her face fell as she looked around at the five of them. “You didn’t dress up….”

“I thought it was just for the kids,” Ruby said quickly, glancing askance at a tall man dressed as a carrot, while his wife dressed as cupcake, pulled him into line at the cakewalk.

“We dressed up!” Ariel said defensively. She tugged her jacket down slightly to show that she had one a Hogwarts tie and school vest. Eric moved his hair to point gamely at his drawn on lighting bolt scar and the fake glasses perched on his head. “We’re the Potters!”

“Nice!” Mary Margret clapped her hands. “You two look great! You should enter in the costume contest!”

“Miss Blanchard!” Came a voice from nearby, high pitched and trembling slightly. “We need your help in the game section!”

“Shoot, I’ve got to get back to work.” She made them all promise to come stop by the costume contest later where she was one of the judges, before she disappeared into the crowd.

“What time does that start?” Lacey asked Leroy, stomping her feet to warm them up.

Pulling out the small flyer they were handing out at the door, he perused it before grunting. “It’s the last thing on the schedule. Got another two hours before it starts.”

“Two hours?!” Ruby and Lacey said in tandem. Ariel frowned sternly at the two of them.

“You guys!” She scolded. “We said we would stay. It’s a festival, find something fun to do!”

“Like what?” Leroy asked, hands crossing over his chest. “Go donate to the,” he glanced down at the flyer. “Nun’s Fall Fundraiser?”

“There’s a hayride, a corn maze and carved pumpkin displays,” Ariel read out from Leroy’s paper. “What should we do first?”

“Uh,” Eric shrugged. “Let’s go check out the corn maze.”

“I’ll catch up with you guys,” Lacey said, glancing at her phone. “Archie said was going to come.”

“I’ll wait with you,” Ruby offered with a wink and a tip of the flask.

“Me too,” Leroy said hastily. Ariel swallowed, looking at them all with wobbling lip and big eyes.

Eric noticed and cleared his throat. “Leroy, why don’t you come with us?” Leroy looked wary. “Maybe while Ariel gets the tickets, we could get a drink?”

That seemed to do it. The shorter man headed off with the couple. “Do you think they know this is a dry carnival?” Lacey asked Ruby as they watched them go.

“They’re about to find out,” Ruby laughed. “Poor guys.”

“Let’s go over to the volunteer tent,” Lacey suggested, pointing at the large enclosed tent with space heaters humming merrily away inside. “Get warm and some free food.”

“Uh,” Ruby stalled. “We aren’t volunteers, Lace.”

“Yea, but we’re good looking women without dates,” she said with a grin. “No one’s going to say anything.”

In fact, no one did say anything. They got their cups of gratis apple cider, spiked it with the remainder of the flask and settled down with their prize in front of one of the heaters closer to the back.

“Look, there’s Jim,” Ruby whispered, pointing out the handsome gym teacher from the elementary school. “I wonder if he’s here with anyone.”

“Hey Jim!” Lacey called out, flushing as Ruby hissed at her to shut up. “Jim, over here!”

The affable Jim turned, caught her wave and strode over. “Hey ladies,” he greeted. “I didn’t know you guys were volunteering tonight.”

“Well you know us,” Lacey smiled up at him. “Always up for something new.”

“That I did know,” Jim teased, looking over at Ruby. “What’s going on?”

“Just the usual,” Ruby responded. “You?”

“Well, I would lie and say nothing but you were there,” Jim sighed, sitting down with them. “It’s all over the school. Parents have been calling since Monday morning for me and Miss Blanchard’s dismissal.”

“What?” Lacey gawked. “Seriously?”

“Yea,” he gave a half shrug, casting a look over his shoulder. “We had to meet with the school board this morning but they basically admitted there was nothing they could since neither of us are married.”

“That’s horrible,” Ruby said with a shudder. “God, I’m sorry to hear that.”

Jim smiled, sharking his head and letting his hair fall in his eyes. He was dressed as a football coach again, obviously a one-costume kind of guy but he looked tired. “I think they were harder on Mary Margret,” he confided. “She apologized to me, you know, after the whole thing the other night but hey, fair is fair.”

Jim noticed the flask Lacey had tucked in her pocket and he grinned. “If I wasn’t working, I would done the same thing,” he told them. “I keep telling them, if we can’t do Oktoberfest we could at least sell beer.”

“Hear, hear,” Lacey toasted him with her glass, taking a warm sip of the hot cider. She felt her phone buzz in her purse and she fished it out to see Archie calling. “Wait a minute, I need to get this.”

“I got it,” Ruby said, grabbing the phone and heading towards the exit. Lacey heard her pick up, “Hey, its Ruby, where are you?”

Lacey turned back to Jim to find him on his phone too now, checking his messages with a frown.” So, what’s next?” Lacey found herself asking.

Jim shrugged, looking up. “Up to Kathryn,” he confessed. “I haven’t heard from her since the party and I guess that’s answer enough.”

“Give her time,” Lacey advised. “You obviously care about her.”

“Yea,” Jim nodded, a low laugh. “God, I can’t believe I’m telling you all this. We haven’t talked since what college?”

“I don’t mind,” Lacey told him, laying her hand on his. “Really.”

“And who is this?”

Cringing, Lacey didn’t bother to look up, but Jim did. For a moment, he looked confused. Then, his mouth dropped open. “Wow, man,” the gym teacher whistled. “Great costume!”

Lacey glanced up, only to find DoDo in all his Dark One glory standing larger than life in the volunteer tent. She jumped to her feet, grabbing for his arm, fully encased in a leather jacket, with spikes along the shoulder and arms.

“What do you think you’re doing?” she hissed at him, knuckles white on his arm. Neal’s voice in her head echoed, ‘ _Lives are forfeit-“_

“Hey man,” Jim laughed, standing to join them. “I’m Jim. I don’t think we’ve met.”

“Charmed,” DoDo grinned, reaching out his scaled golden hand. Jim’s eyes widened as he took it, looking at the sharp black talons in interest.

“Wow,” Jim didn’t let his hand go, pumping it slowly. “These almost look real!”

DoDo giggled and Lacey squeezed his free arm harder. “Jim, sorry but we got to go catch up with Archie and Ruby,” Lacey apologized, already dragging DoDo towards the exit.

“See ya!” Jim said behind them as she fled the warm corner of the tent. She watched as people turned to stare as they went by, cell phones already pointing and aiming in their direction.

A young mother and her two children came up, cutting them off. “Can we get a picture?” she asked, indicating her children. “They love your costume.”

Before Lacey could open her mouth to say no, DoDo was already handing Lacey the mother’s phone. “Certainty,” he said, kneeling down between the two children as the mother hovered behind him. He twisted his lips into a grimace, one hand coming up to dangle over the youngest head, causing them both to giggle madly.

Lacey stood frozen, staring at the family in horror until she felt someone take the phone from her. She heard someone say, “Smile!” and the photo was taken. Already two more people were waiting, holding out their phones to others waiting. DoDo was in his element, snarling and clawing for photos at the awed children before shooing them off to their parents.

A few young women were twittering nearby, before one grew bold and demanded he take a picture with them. Lacey watched in growing shock as the ringleader draped herself over him, tossing a sultry look back at her friend as they snapped a selfie with a demon between them.

“Enough!” Lacey found her voice, startling a few people who were standing around to watch the proceedings. She strode forward, grabbed DoDo’s arm and hauled him out of the exit. She nearly ran into Archie and Ruby, who were walking back in.

“There you are!” Archie and Lacey said at once, though not to each other.

“You brought him?” Lacey yelped, keeping a firm hand on DoDo’s arm in case he tried to escape. “Why?”

“He asked!” Archie said helplessly. “It’s a costume party so I didn’t see the big deal-“

“The big deal?” Lacey replied incredulously. “The big deal?”

“Lacey,” Ruby murmured quietly. “He doesn’t know…”

“Know? Know what?” The Dark One interrupted, annoyed at being left out of the conversation.

“Forget it,” Lacey growled. She turned to the demon beside her with a glare. “You,” she whispered. “Better be careful with this game you’re playing.”

“Me?” he drawled, raising a hand delicately to his chest.

She shook her head before making her way towards the main stage area. A group of teens were playing Halloween music; she planned to lose herself in the crowd. Let Ruby and Archie babysit the demon, she was tired of it.

She heard Ruby calling her name but she made it into a crowd, pushing deeper as she turned her cell off. Part of her wanted to call Neal but she remembered he had told her he was going back to lay low for the days before Sanheim. A safety measure his father obviously did not share.

After the teens finished, a group of teachers got up to do some Macbeth, obviously enjoying themselves as they limped around stage and yelled bloody war. Lacey found herself relaxing, enjoying the mangled but well meaning Shakespeare.

The impromptu talent show continued for a bit until someone wrestled the microphone away from a singer doing their best impression of Michael Jackson’s Thriller, and shooed them off stage. Lacey joined the swelling crowd with booing the administrator, who looked harried.

“We will be beginning the costume contest shortly,” the little man said fitfully. “Please come to the back of the stage to enter if you’re interested.”

Lacey heard someone call her name from nearby. She looked to her left to see Ariel frantically waving her over. She made her way carefully through the crowd, knowing Ariel would not give up any time soon. She arrived to find Eric and Leroy covered in hay and looking put out.

“What happened to you?” she laughed, plucking some hay out Leroy’s beard.

“Hayride got stuck in the mud,” Leroy grumbled. “We had to get out and push.” Lacey glanced down to find both men had mud splattered all over their dark clothes.

“The corn maze was fun though,” Ariel said cheerfully. “Leroy made it out in record time.”

“I cheated,” he confessed in a whisper to Lacey. “I just moved corn around until I could walk straight out.”

“Hey, there’s Ruby,” Eric said, looking over the crowd. “Hey, guys over here!”

Ruby and Archie joined them, looking carefully at Lacey who shook her head at them. There was no need to drag the others into it, when they didn’t know the situation. “Where’s Gold?” Ariel asked with a frown. “He was with you guys earlier?”

“He’s uh-“ Ruby started but just then the microphone screeched with feedback and everyone turned to find the small man back on stage.

“Ladies and Gentlemen, thank you for being here at the Pumpkin Patch Dance!” he squeaked.

Lacey leaned over to Ruby. “Why is it called a dance anyway?”

“Used to be a big harvest dance, back in Granny’s day,” Ruby whispered back, “but it got a little too rowdy.”

Lacey lifted an eyebrow; just as the guest judges were announced.

“Mary Margret Blanchard, First Grade teacher at Storybrooke Elementary!”

The crowd, lots of young voices, lifted up to cheer for her and the small group of them hollered and yelled as well. Flushing prettily, the woman dressed as a pumpkin waved to the crowed before heading to the seats along the side of the stage.

“They vote which teacher gets to do it every year,” Leroy said proudly. “It’s her fourth year in a row winning!”

Lacey smiled up at Mary Margret, obviously enjoying herself as she waved back at the kids she knew in the crowd. The next judge was announced; someone named George, a bored looking man in his late fifties who the crowd politely clapped for.

“Kathryn’s father,” hissed Ruby. Lacey caught the briefest awkward glance between Mary Margret and him, before he sat down and ignored everyone, staring straight ahead.

“And last,” the nervous announced said. “Our very own Mayor Mills!”

The crowd looked taken aback, but started clapping again, although slightly nervous. Lacey looked in interest as the woman took the stage, dressed in all black suit with a blood red shirt under her jacket. She smiled poisonously, lifting a hand for silence as she took the phone.

“Thank you Sidney,” she said, throwing the announcer a cold smile. “I’m very happy to be here tonight.”

“God,” Eric grumbled, shaking his head. “I can’t believe she got re-elected again.”

“Why?” Lacey asked, not up with any politics, much less the small city ones.

Eric thought about it for a moment, trying to be fair when Ariel cut in for him. “She’s the worst,” the redhead complained. “She says she’ll do all this stuff and never does it. She just likes the power- she doesn’t actually mayor or anything.”

“That’s odd,” Lacey said, turning her attention back to the stage as Mayor Mills took her seat. She saw the Mayor throw a cold look at Mary Margret, who looked miserable suddenly.

“Do they know each other?” she asked but the group was already watching the children parade across stage. The most numerous of the evening’s contest, it took nearly thirty minutes for the judges to see them all and then award prizes for age ranges.

An infant dressed as Dobby took first prize, being the only hand made costume in the bunch. A four year old boy dressed as robot won for the next age range and a nine year old girl with her hair in a braid got first place for her stylish witch’s outfit, complete with a broom and smoking cauldron.

“Teens,” the announcer called out, flooding the stage with inappropriate costumes and half assed attempts to be clever. The announcers were quick with their decisions on this one. A couple, dressed as Barbie and GI Joe were easy winners.

BY the time it came to adults, Lacey was growing restless. She hadn’t seen DoDo for two hours and she was worried what he might have gotten into. “Hey,” she tugged Ruby’s sleeve. “Where’s Gold?”

“Uh,” Ruby said slowly. “You’re not going to like it.”

“Why-“

A burst of applause came from around them and Lacey didn’t have to look on stage to know. Bursting from the dark wings that the lights didn’t hit, came the flamboyant entrance of the Dark One, outshining all the other costumes as he came center stage. The lights seemed to dim around everyone else, a hot white spotlight focusing on him, causing him to shine. His black rotten teeth curled back in a smile as he raised one long hand, causing a burst of purple smoke to burst forward, dissolving into the night air.

People shouted their approval, and even the bored man on the panel looked up intrigued. Mary Margret was clapping too, although she also was smiling at all the other contests too. It was the Mayor’s face that Lacey noticed.

A dark look on her features as she rose halfway in her seat, eyes narrowed as she glared at the demon as he traipsed about stage. It wasn’t something Lacey would have noticed if it hadn’t been for her recent trip to the library. But Madam Mayor’s fingers were curled around a necklace hanging from her throat, a familiar symbol that graced the opening title page of the “Modern Guide to Witchcraft and Wizardry.”

The crowd roared their approval and Mary Margret hurried around to award DoDo with the small trophy. He held it up in delight, bringing Mary Margret’s arm up with him as the crowd continued to laugh at his antics. Lacey barely noticed. Her eyes locked on the figure behind the table. She needn’t have bothered asking why the Mayor was constantly elected, she knew.

Madam Mayor was a witch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome Mayor Regina Mills to the fold guys, she's here to stay. So, for those at home counting.
> 
> We have three witches mentioned to date: Lacey, Mal and Regina.  
> One demon: Everybody's favorite Dark One  
> Immortal: Neal  
> Mortals: Everybody else. (Or maybe just mostly everybody else? Hmm? Hmm?)
> 
> Tomorrow, we're going trick-or-treating.


	23. Chapter 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lacey, DoDo and Archie go trick-or-treating and meet other (unknown to other people) magical creatures enjoying the masquerade crowd.

_October 30, 2015_

“Absolutely not,” Lacey said, crossing her arms over her chest. This was obviously the wrong thing to do; both male eyes plummeted straight to the area. Archie had the good grace to blush when she caught him, DoDo on the other hand…

“Little lopsided,” he mentioned with a sniff, making an odd see saw motion with his right hand.

“You’re a little lopsided,” Lacey threw back, frowning when the insult didn’t come out quiet as witty as she had thought it was in her head. “I mean it,” she repeated. “You aren’t coming out with us tonight.”

“I,” the demon said slowly and carefully, “can do anything I want.”

Archie stepped gamely into the fray. “I think what Lacey is trying to say-“

“Not now, Archie,” Lacey snapped, stepping forward until she was toe to toe with the roommate from hell. “Look here, Dark One.”

His eyes registered the use of his true title and he grew somber. Nodding in satisfaction, Lacey said calmly and lowly so Archie could not overhear without straining. “I know all about the little rules,” she said, keeping her gaze serious. “I know about the laws and the bylines and the things that enforce them. And I know,” she paused, “that you don’t give a fuck about me or the people I care about.”

“Well, see, there’s where your wrong, dearie,” he giggled back, eyes widening until they were large as saucers in his narrow face. “I do care, very much about you.”

“My soul,” Lacey growled, still low, “is mine and it’s going to stay that way.”

“Fine,” he said back, shrugging one shoulder than the other. “But I’m still going out tonight with or without you. After all,” he said, dropping his humorous routine, “I’ve told you certain things too, about how things that creep and crawl free on the eve of Sanheim. “

Archie, tired of lingering in the kitchen, came to the back of the couch. “You know, he’s right Lacey,” Archie said carefully. “All Storybrooke’s seen him. He was on the front cover of _The Looking Glass_ this morning. It couldn’t hurt…”

The Dark One grinned his foul smile at her and Lacey’s fingers tightened at her side. “Fine,” she conceded foully. She knew the book was safely hidden in Eric’s apartment. She had stashed it there after leaving Mary Margret’s, Ariel confused but willing to help her hide ‘Gold’s birthday gift’. She hadn’t asked what the redhead saw the book as, she wasn’t sure she wanted to know. First thing in the morning though, she planned on going and retrieving it. She was tired always being two steps behind.

“Shall we?” DoDo asked gallantry, holding his arm out to her. Lacey brushed past him, pulling on witch’s hat as they headed out the door. She only had the one costume, but it had always served her well. Archie was dressed as a Dalmatian, white suit with black spots on it and floppy ears he must have gotten offline. The oddest part about it wasn’t the black nose paint, the homemade tail or the fact that he occasionally barked for the hell of it. It was the red collar around his neck, which looked oddly well fitted around his throat.

“Where to first?” Archie asked as they reached outside. “East or West Main Street?”

They passed a group of kids heading home, the parents waving at them from across the street as they trailed them. Storybrooke Trick or Treat was one of the more entertaining holiday traditions. Kids went trick or treating from early evening to an hour after sunset. Then the adults came out. They passed by the Nolan house, and Lacey looked up to find it dark.

“They must be out,” she said to Archie but DoDo shook his head.

“The male is upstairs,” he said, pushing forward. “The female is out.”

“David?” Archie asked, stopping. “Maybe we should ask him to come out?”

“No,” Lacey reminded him, pulling him along. “We promised we would stop by the lofts. Mary Margret’s hosting the table there and I don’t want her to see us with him.”

“But-“

“Where’s the other one tonight?” DoDo interrupted, as they reached Main Street. It was crowded with costumed revelers. “This seems something she would relish.”

“Ruby’s at work,” Lacey said, already looking around for the best booth. “Hey, the bank is handing out free fudge!”

Ignoring the artful eye roll of the demon, Archie and Lacey hurried over to join the growing line of adults. A few stopped DoDo, obviously recognizing him from the paper and congratulating him on his costume. As they walked way, fudge in hand, Lacey turned to him.

“So, what’s with all this publicity?” she asked baldly. Archie’s jaw was wired shut with fudge at the moment but he made a small noise indicating confusion. “What if they find out?”

“They?” DoDo chuckled, wiggling an eyebrow. “If you’re referring to the enforcers, it’s Sandheim. They can’t do or prove a thing. So, if I’m a couple of photos?” He flung his arms out wide. “I just am another clever costume in a sea of people pretending to be something they’re not.”

Lacey frowned, the fudge slightly melting in her hand. “So, you’re not endangering anyone?”

DoDo looked at her as if she had a third eye. “Endangering- what has that boy been telling you?”

“Nothing,” Lacey said, as Archie wrenched his mouth shut. “Forget it.”

“What’s this about endangering?” Archie said, walking quickly to catch up with her.

“Forget it, Archie,” Lacey sighed. “Just help me keep an eye on him, all right?”

“Uh, that’ll be hard,” Archie said, turning.

“What? Why?” Lacey asked, glancing over her shoulder. DoDo was gone.

“Damn it,” she cursed, throwing her hands up. “Fine, fuck him. Let’s just have a good time.”

“Can we stop by the diner later?” Archie asked hopefully. “Granny’s made her famous hot chocolate.”

“You just want to see Ruby,” Lacey laughed. Archie’s ears went pink but he didn’t deny it. “I told her we would stop by at the end of her shift, we’ll go then.”

Agreeing, Archie soon pointed out that Gepetto's had free pizza slices, and were handing them out with a free hand. “God, I love small towns some time,” Lacey smiled, joining the line of repeaters. Archie greeted the storeowner Gepetto with a hug, Lacey blinking in surprise. She hadn’t realized Archie was such good friends with the smaller older man but he handed them two slices and waved them away as others queued up for more.

“Let’s go see the Nun’s,” Lacey suggested.

“What about the Sheriff’s Office?” Archie threw out. “Last year they had that jail photo booth set up-“

“Oh, yea,” Lacey remembered. “Let’s do that before too many more of these.”

Finishing their pizza on the walk over, they stopped as they saw lights shining from a few blocks down the road. “Isn’t that the Mayor’s office?” Lacey asked, peering down the street.

A dark haired woman stopped, turning in her princess gown to say, “Oh yes! Madam Mayor has outdone herself this year.” She held up a half eaten candy apple, that looked so perfect it could have been fake. Lacey looked uneasily towards the bright white building, even as Archie hurried forward.

“Come on!” he called back, walking quickly. Lacey followed, slowly, looking around in case DoDo showed up at as usual at the worst possible minute. She needn’t have feared though, as they approached the house, she found him perched on the front step, just inches away from Madam Mayor, who stood proudly in a regal ball gown, looking every inch a feudal queen.

Archie, not realizing the issue, turned to her with a puzzle look. “What’s up, Lace?”

“Nothing,” she muttered, approaching the steps slowly. A group of people handed out the candy apples, their shirts proclaiming them as Boston’s Bakers, obviously catered in for the occasion. When DoDo’s eyes saw her, he jumped up and waved them wildly towards him.

“You must meet Regina,” he cackled, pulling Lacey up the stairs. Lacey looked at him askance, bending town as Archie introduced him to the obviously not amused Mayor.

“She’s a witch!” Lacey whispered frantically. “I saw her necklace last night- the symbol-“

“Why, of course she’s a witch,” DoDo scoffed. “That’s common knowledge.”

“What are you telling my constituents, Gold?” the Mayor called out, growing displeased at the tete-a-tete.

“Only that you’re a witch,” DoDo said easily back to her, his lips curling back as he wrinkled his nose at her. “Was that a secret?”

Regina raised an eyebrow at him, glancing at the two of them. “Such as sense of humor,” she said blandly, waving and grimacing a smile at some older man in the crowd. “Thought he was dead,” she said aside to them, waving once more before turning away. “Anyways, as nice as it was catching up-“

“Oh yes,” DoDo chirped. “Do tell your mother I said hello. Oh wait,” he stopped, cocking his head. “You can’t cause she’s dead.”

“Gold!” Lacey said in horror, turning to stare at him. “You can’t-“

“You should know,” the mayor grumbled. “You were the one who suggested it. Now, if you’ll excuse me-“

She made her way down into the crowd, a side-glance at Lacey as she went. Archie was white as sheet, making his costume look more authentic than ever.

“What just happened?” he asked them, voice breaking.

“Oh, Regina’s all bark and no bite,” DoDo assured them.

“I thought witches were sworn enemies of-“

“Sworn enemies, what nonsense,” DoDo mocked, preening as someone came up to snap a picture of him before disappearing back into the crowd. “There’s good and bad witches, just like everything else. Lines aren’t as clear cut as my son made have drawn them, you would do well to remember that.”

“I can’t keep up with all this,” Archie murmured, sweating openly. “The Mayor’s a witch?”

“Don’t worry,” DoDo grinned up at him. “She’ll probably cast a forgetting spell on you when she remembers to get around to it.”

“Oh, good,” Archie said in some relief.

“Where next?” DoDo asked, popping to his feet.

“The Nun’s have pumpkin pie,” Archie said, pointing at a sign leading the way. “Want to go there?”

“Nah,” Lacey said, glancing up the street towards the residential area. “Let’s stop by and see Mary Margret before it gets too late.”

The trio made their way up town, taking much longer now that DoDo was back with them. Many people stopped to get their picture with him, slowing them down. Lacey spent most of the time chatting to a young man, blue and gray and splattered with fake blood. He had a convincing musket with him that he told her was his father’s when she asked him about it. When they finally made it to the lofts, they found out door games set up, and a large group of people standing around kegs.

“Hey guys!” Mary Margret waved at them from a table nearby. She handed them each a full size candy bar, slipping them another one when her partner went to get more from the lobby. “Having fun?”

“Oodles,” DoDo sighed, looking around in distaste at the beer staining the street.

“Yea,” Mary Margret sighed. “The boards of all the condos got together and decided to sponsor an impromptu Oktoberfest. No one told us,” she gestured towards the lofts. “So, candy and beer, what more can you ask for?”

“How you doing?” Lacey asked as Archie and DoDo drifted over to the corn hole game happening a few feet away.

Smiling, Mary Margret tilted her tiara back in place. “Oh, usual. Jim and Kathryn were here earlier but she dragged him off when she realized I was working the booth all night.”

“So-“

“Divorce,” Mary Margret told her quietly. “I heard from one of the other teachers this morning. She filed yesterday.”

“Wow,” Lacey said, feeling bad now that she hadn’t gotten David from his house. “Poor David.”

“Yea,” Mary Margret echoed, but she did not sound entirely unhappy either.

“We’re going,” Archie said, stomping past them in a tizzy. Lacey opened her mouth to ask why when she saw DoDo giggling. She turned to find Archie’s homemade tail was now swinging as if it was actually-

“DoDo!” Lacey yelled. “Not funny!”

Mary Margret looked confused. Lacey turned and said a quick apology and goodbye. When she caught up with them, she made her roommate undo his magical mayhem.

“What happened to all magic comes with a price?” she demanded, as Archie ripped his once again fake tail off him and threw it out.

“Different rules this time of year,” DoDo explained cheerfully. “You were talking to that mortal's ghost for twenty minutes earlier and didn’t even notice!”

“I was not-“ Lacey started but stopped. “The guy dressed as a solider?”

“He was a revolutionary war solider,” DoDo corrected. “Didn’t you see the bullet holes?”

Lacey groaned even as Archie grumbled about wanting pumpkin pie. “You go on ahead,” DoDo said, turning his nose up. “I have little interest in being around those creatures.”

“Nuns?” Lacey asked in interest.

“There, you are.”

They turned to find a petite woman, dressed as a fairy standing just outside the drive of the Nun’s cloister. “I thought you might try something.”

“Bah,” DoDo sniffed. “What are you doing here?”

“Sent here to watch out for you. You’ve hardly been inconspicuous this week,” the woman said, coming into the lamplight. She was young, heart shaped face and beautiful brown hair pulled into a bun. “He isn’t bothering you, is he?” She asked Archie. Lacey opened her mouth, but DoDo silenced her with a quick step on her foot.

“Not at all, Master Hopper is just showing me around,” DoDo said with another stained grin. “He wanted pumpkin pie.”

“I could help with that,” the woman said, eyeing DoDo carefully. “You aren’t welcome on these grounds though.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he sighed. “Off you go then.”

The woman pulled Archie away, glaring back at him as they reached the gate. Archie looked confused but didn’t protest the free pie.

“Awful woman,” DoDo grumbled, leaning against the pillar. “If I had known they would have sent her-“

“Who is that?” Lacey asked, peering after her.

“She’s Reul Ghorm,” he snipped. “One of those mortals my son told you about.”

“Let me get this straight,” Lacey said with a smile growing on her lips. “You have no qualms about openly pissing of a witch, but the nun you’re scared of?”

“As I said before,” he said testily. “I know Regina fairly well. She doesn’t like that I’m in her sand box but she’ll play nice until she knows how she can use it to her advantage. The Nun, on the other hand,” he looked thoughtful for a moment. “That is an unexpectedly bold move on the part of the Church.”

“She didn’t look like much to me,” Lacey pointed out.

“It’s not every day a witch changes sides,” DoDo continued. “Not unusual, look at Regina. She's the kind of witch I like best.” He smiled at her. “Corruptible.”

“And Reul?”

“Reul,” he sighed, “was not content with the witch’s usual game. She went to the Church so she would have power to hunt demons instead of simply guard against them. Nasty thing,” he uttered again.

“Okay,” Lacey said, toeing the dirt. “So, she’ll be dead in fifty years, can’t you just lay low?”

“Witches,” DoDo said, pinching the bridge of his nose as if he had a headache, “have unusually long lives. Ruel there is about three centuries old and your little Mayor nearly half that.”

“No shit,” Lacey said. “Neal didn’t mention that.”

“No, he wouldn’t have,” DoDo grumbled but before she could clarify, Archie rejoined them.

“What did you do?” He asked DoDo, handing Lacey a piece of pie.

“What do you mean?” Lacey asked, taking it gratefully.

“Well, I asked for a piece of pie for my friend, and she thought I was talking about you.” He pointed at DoDo. “She didn’t see you at all, Lace.”

She turned to him, questions on her lips but he whistled innocently. “Where to next?” DoDo cheered, heading back towards the main street area. “It’s nearly midnight and I don’t advise our little trio being out after that. Things could get … interesting.”

“Granny’s,” Lacey said quickly. “We need to pick up Ruby.” Deciding to let it lie, she leaned over to Archie. “Did you tell her anything about DoDo?”

Archie shook his head. “She asked me how I knew him, lied and told her I met him at the festival and ran into him again.” He smiled a bit and Lacey saw he had enjoyed himself. “I told her he was just interested in my hobbies.”

Lacey smiled at him, pressing his hand. “Just keep it to yourself that you know about him,” she pointed at the back of the creature walking ahead of them. She knew him well enough to know he could hear everything she said but he seemed content to let them whisper. “If anyone else asks, he’s my eccentric cousin and you just met him.”

Archie nodded as they made it back to Main Street. Heading towards the diner, Lacey decided as soon as Ruby got off they would head straight home. Then, she thought to herself as they made their way down the road, she was going to lock the three of them in Archie’s house until Sanheim passed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And one more new character! But all the players are on the board now, and after tomorrow evening, Lacey's life is never going to be the same.


	24. Chapter 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lacey and Ruby get drunk on Halloween and play with an Ouija-Board.

_October 31st, 2015_

The full moon hung heavy outside, glowing a soft yellow as the harvest winds blew heavy against the windows. The three of them were in the back of the house sitting in the den. The rest of the house stood dark; the television was the only source of light in the entire place.

Lacey glanced over at the other two, sitting together on the couch. Ruby looked tired, while Archie still seemed skittish, eyes jumping to the doorway if the house groaned or settled in the slightest.

As if a silent alarm had gone off, he sighed and stood up, displacing Ruby who had been nearly fallen asleep on his shoulder. “I’m going to bed,” he announced tightly, avoiding Lacey’s eye.

“It’s not even ten yet,” Ruby pointed out. “Come on, just one more movie.”

“We’ve been watching movies since noon,” Archie complained, rubbing the back of his neck. “I don’t know about you two, but I’m exhausted.”

“Go to bed, then,” Lacey said tersely, pulling her blanket closer around her. She had taken the loveseat, curled up with her phone and browsing various sites discussing the occult. She too wanted nothing more than to go to bed, the day had been long and tedious for all of them. But she was too wound up to sleep. “We’re not stopping you.”

“Lacey,” Ruby protested.

“I’ll see you in the morning,” Archie said stiffly, heading off towards bed. Pongo, waking from his own slumber, stretched and followed his master up the stairs. They heard the door open to the bedroom, some water running and then silence as the man of the house went to bed.

“He’s just scared,” Ruby said quietly, turning off the movie playing unseen before them. “You have to admit things have gotten out of control fast around here.”

Lacey ignored her, opting to pretend to continue skimming her phone. But in her chest, the odd burning guilt that had been eating away at her all day flared brighter to life, consuming her. After they had collected Ruby from the diner last night, Lacey had locked the three of them in Archie’s house, before filling the psychologist in on what Neal had shared the other night.

Archie had wasted little time in calling Neal, disappearing into the living room to talk. When he reemerged an hour later, he let Pongo out to do his business and then went around the entire house, checking locks and pouring salt along windows and doorways. They had slept for a few hours, eaten whatever leftovers were available and stewed in their collected terrified misery.

“Having a demon in your life kind of ruins Halloween, doesn’t it,” Ruby said softly. Lacey looked over to find the brunette was smiling kindly at her. “I mean this used to be your favorite holiday.”

Lacey shrugged. They had turned down Mary Margret’s invitation to dinner and Ariel and Eric had also sent happy wishes for Halloween. Leroy was over at the Rabbit Hole. At this point, Lacey had cabin fever.

“Hey!” Ruby exclaimed, jumping to her feet and heading towards a nearby bookshelf. “Let’s play a game!”

“Ruby,” Lacey groaned, checking the time. “It’s quarter to nine. Just put another movie on or something.”

Ruby turned to glare at her, pulling monopoly off the shelf. “I’ve sat on that couch all day,” Ruby said heatedly. “I’m going to go spike some cider and have myself a happy Halloween and you are helping because this is all your fault.”

Both of them froze. Ruby looked ashamed, eyes wide as she stared down at her. “God, Lacey,” she said wretchedly. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean-“

“Yea, you did,” Lacey sighed, standing and shedding her blanket. “But it’s okay. You’re not wrong. Go get the booze, I’ll set up the game.”

Ruby smiled at her, slipping her the box as she headed towards the kitchen.

 

An hour or so later, the clock in the hall chimed eleven and Lacey, drunk on whiskey and victory, held up the money she had won and declared herself the winner. Ruby giggled, pushing her dog piece around the board as she bemoaned her financial issues.

“What next?” Lacey asked, leaning back. “We got an hour before we can celebrate our surviving our first ever Sanhiem.”

“Let’s see,” Ruby said, staggering to her feet. An empty bottle of Jack Daniel’s lay between them and Lacey knew there would be hell to pay in the morning when Archie woke up. She was just glad her roommate hadn’t shown his scaled face. DoDo had vanished shortly after the diner last night, claiming he had business to see too before the night was over. Archie hadn’t said anything but Lacey wondered if the salt barrier kept more than the unknown out, perhaps it also prevented a certain demon from joining them.

“Ooh!” Ruby exclaimed, dragging a small box out from the back of the shelves. “Look at this!”

It was an ancient Ouija board, the plain nondescript box hardly hinting at what was inside. Ruby already had the box top off, pulling out a ply wood board with black printing and setting it on top of the monopoly board.

“I’ve never done this,” Lacey said skeptically, reaching for her phone. “How does it work?”

“You just ask a questions and then we both put our hands on it, like this,” Ruby placed both over hands on the small cursor, hiccuping slightly. “And you just let the spirits drag your hands to spell out the answer!”

“Yea, let’s play with the spirits on Sanheim,” Lacey looked at her, shaking her head. “That’ll be a good idea.”

“Come on!” Ruby pouted. “It’s a board game. Not a crystal ball.”

Outside, the wind was dying down and Lacey glanced at her phone, seeing it was just past eleven. They had under an hour to go before she could rest easy. Neal had promised to stop by in the morning, curious about their encounters the night before.

“Fine,” Lacey gave in, shutting her phone off and placing it in her lap. They heard clicking in the hallway, looking up to find Pongo had joined them, wagging his tail hopefully.

Ruby called him to her, but he sat in the doorway and whined. Ruby gave him a helpless smile. “You can outside in a little while, Pongo,” she reassured him. “Just a bit longer buddy.”

The dog sighed, laying down where he was to wait. Lacey felt for him. Archie had been careful to not let him drink too much, but the dog hadn’t gotten to go outside all day.

“Okay, put your hands here,” Ruby instructed her. Lacey did so, feeling foolish. “Okay, my question is uh…” she faltered, giggling slightly, “I dunno, what does you ask an Ouija board?”

Lacey shrugged. “Let’s try an easy one. Anyone there?”

Ruby giggled and Lacey grinned up at her. She felt the planchette move under her fingertips to YES. Ruby grinned over at her, shaking her head. “Okay, if you are there, tell me this, how old am I?”

The planchette moved to 3 and then 0. Lacey frowned at it even as Ruby laughed. “Seriously? I thought you were my age.”

Lacey frowned at her. “Then, how did you know to move it thirty?”

“You did,” Ruby scoffed at her. “Don’t try and freak me out.”

Lacey felt the odd bravery of the whiskey making her tongue move on its own. “Fine, then spirit, how old are you?”

The device moved to 0 and stayed there.

“Lame,” Ruby muttered. Lacey frowned at the board.

“Who are you?”

The planchette moved slowly but steadily. Z-O-Z-O.

“Zozo?” Lacey scoffed. “Come on Ruby, you’re not even trying.”

Pongo lifted his head up and whined. Lacey ignored him, growing interested despite herself. “When did you live?”

Their hands moved to A-L-W-A-Y-S. Ruby snatched her hand away, shooting Lacey a dark look. “I don’t like this,” she said. “I thought we’d ask who was sleeping with who and how to get rich.”

“You wanted to play,” Lacey reminded her. “Besides it’s all made up.”

Ruby wasn’t paying any attention to her. She was frowning down at the board. “What are you doing?”

Lacey frowned. “Nothing, why?”

“Your hand is moving,” Ruby said quietly, scooting back from the board. Her knee left contact with Lacey’s and the small white candle that Archie had lit early finally burnt out. Pongo stood up and barked, ears flat on his head. He repeated the bark and Ruby groaned. “He’s going to wake up Archie!”

“Just let him out,” Lacey said, removing her hand from the piece. The piece had been making small figure eights. She looked at her fingertips, unsure why she had been doing that. “It’s nearly midnight.”

“Okay,” Ruby said, climbing to her feet. Lacey stayed there by the board, glancing down at it as before she picked it up, throwing it back in the box and returning it to the shelf. She went to pick up her cell phone when she heard a dog growling. She stood, heading towards the kitchen when she heard the scream.

Dropping everything, she raced to the back door. Pongo was barking madly, along the back wall of the fence, jumping at the high wall in frenzy as thwarted in a pursuit. “Jesus,” Lacey whispered, watching as the Dalmatian flipped his shit. Upstairs, she heard Archie waking up. “Ruby?” she called into the dark halls of the house.

“I’m down here,” said a faint voice. Lacey looked down to find Ruby clutching her arm on the back porch steps. She heard Archie enter the kitchen behind her.

“What the hell are you two doing?” he yelled, grabbing Lacey and hauling her back in the house. He jumped outside, clutching Ruby and pulling her more gently back with him. Pongo continued barking but when Archie whistled, he grew quiet and headed back, hair on the back of his neck still bristling.

Archie slammed the door behind his dog, who whined skulking behind Lacey as Archie flipped the kitchen lights on. Ruby’s sweater was torn, blood staining the other sleeve where Ruby cradled it. Her eyes were wide and shiny with tears and she was murmuring something softly that neither of them could make out.

“What happened?” Archie asked, trying to get a look at it. Ruby refused, obviously in shock as she began to shake and whimper. “Ruby, please.”

“We need to go to the hospital,” Lacey said, heading back into the room for her phone. She looked down at the couch where she had left it, confused when it was no longer there. She turned, finding it now sitting oddly enough on top of the closed Ouija board box on the shelf.

Her phone lit up just as she reached it and she picked it up with trembling hands. “Lacey?” Neal exclaimed, panic in his tone. “What happened?”

“How did you know-“

“Just invite him in!” Neal told her shortly. “Call for The Dark One and invite him in!”

“I invite the Dark One in,” Lacey repeated quickly, just as a hand appeared from the dark beside her and took the phone from her shaking grasp.

“I’m here, son,” DoDo said quietly. “I’ll have the witch call you once I get things sorted.”

He handed the phone back to her, yellow eyes glaring at her in the darkness of the now black room. “Fool,” he hissed at her. “Do you have a death wish or are you that thoughtless?

“DoDo, Ruby needs a doctor-“

“She doesn’t,” he sighed, already heading towards the kitchen. Lacey followed behind him, slipping her phone in her back pocket. AS the two of them entered the kitchen, Archie stood from where he knelt before Ruby and barred their way.

“How did you get in here?” he demanded. “I didn’t invite you.”

“No, the witch did,” DoDo said quietly, “but I’m not the only one she’s invited into your home tonight. We need to leave, immediately.”

“What’s going on?” Ruby asked, eyes dark in her pale face. “Are we going to the hospital?”

DoDo gathered her, swinging a cloak from midair around her shoulders before he herded them all towards the front door. “We need to get to the apartment,” he directed. “Hopper, bring the dog if you don’t want him dead.”

Pongo, still afraid of the Dark One, whined. Archie looked on the edge of arguing but he nodded tightly. “After you.”

 

Minutes later, they spilled into Lacey’s apartment, just as the clock over her stove read 12:00. Ruby had gained some color back from the walk outside but she was still in pain. Archie hurried to the bathroom, looking for bandages while the Dark One took her arm in his hands, ignoring her cry of protest.

“This will sting,” he warned her. “Magic comes with a price. Do you accept the deal?”

“Is it-“

“Just a tit for tat bargain,” DoDo guaranteed her, his voice more exhausted than Lacey had ever heard it. “Your soul is perfectly safe.”

Ruby nodded and DoDo placed his hand on her arm. A scream, much like the one earlier, tore through Ruby and she tried to twist out of his grip. He held tight though and Lacey had to restrain Archie as he came tearing out of the bathroom. “Stop it!” Archie screamed over Ruby’s crying gasps of pain. “Stop it you’re hurting her!”

“There,” DoDo finally said, stepping away. Lacey let Archie go, watching him run to gather Ruby in his arms, stroking her hair as he whispered words of comfort into her ear. She flung her arms around him, burrowing her head in his shoulder as she wept. Lacey saw the blood stained sleeves but she also saw the torn flesh had knit itself.

“Ruby, your arm,” Lacey pointed out quietly. Her friend pulled it off Archie, twisting it in the light to examine it.

“Thanks,” she whispered but she did not look at any of them.

“What’s going on?” Archie demanded, turning to the two of them. He was still dressed in his pajamas and had terrible bed head, glasses askew.

“I believe the witch summoned a demon into your home, which drew the attention of certain other undesirables in the area to your property.”

“What witch?” Lacey asked. “Regina?”

“No,” DoDo sighed. “Not Regina.”

They heard steps running up the stairs and Lacey went to the door to find Neal panting in the hallway. “Oh thank God,” he sighed. “I saw your front door open, Archie-“

“I closed that,” he said in confusion, going to the window to check. Lacey went to follow him but Neal put his hand on her arm to stop her.

“You okay?” he asked, looking up at her in concern.

“Of course, I’m okay,” Lacey said bewildered. “I’m not the one who got attacked by a possible rabid dog.”

Neal looked at her for a moment before nodding, heading in to see to Ruby. DoDo stood in the dark by the mantle, watching the four of them. “What happened Ruby?”

“I let Pongo out, cause he was barking and I didn’t want him to wake Archie up-“

A noise of derision from the corner caused Neal to shoot his father a glare. “Go on,” he coaxed her.

“But he didn’t want to, he kept growling at the door. As soon as I opened it, something just reached out and grabbed me,” Ruby whispered, her hand going to her arm. “It pulled me out into the yard but Pongo attacked it-“

Pongo whined, hearing his name. Neal nodded, reaching out to where he was curled by the trash can and stroked his ears. “Good boy,” he told the dog. “Brave boy.”

“Then, Lacey was there-“

“Listen to me,” Neal whispered. “Did you see anything?” Ruby opened her mouth but fell silent, shaking her head. “Okay, it’s okay,” Neal reassured her, before standing. “I’m going to take you to the Inn,” he said quietly. “Your grandmother was there when I left.”

Ruby nodded as Archie came up to the table. “I’ll go with you,” he said.

“You can stay in the Inn, we have a spare room.” Ruby told Archie. “I’m sorry, I just thought it was almost midnight and we’d be fine-“

“It’s not your fault,” Archie told her, eyes burning. “It’s not, don’t think that way.”

“And whose fault is it?” Lacey asked, growing flustered. “Mine?”

“Damn straight,” Neal said, turning to her. She took a step back, thrown by the anger in his voice. Ruby looked at the floor, avoiding her gaze as Archie stood frowning at her. “What were you thinking? Ouija on Sanheim?”

“It’s just a game!” Lacey defended, crossing her arms over her chest.

“It’s a game if you’re a mortal!” Neal shot back. “But you’re not a mortal, Lacey!”

“Neal!” DoDo hissed from the corner but Neal shot his father an even darker look, raising a finger at him. “Don’t get me started on you, Papa. This is as much your fault as it is her’s.”

“What the hell is going on?” Lacey demanded, stepping in between the father and son. “What exactly are you trying to say to me, Neal?”

“That you’re a goddamn witch, Lacey French,” Neal gritted out. “Didn’t you ever wonder how you summoned a demon into your life? Why he stuck around instead of just killing you?”

Lacey felt a coldness washing over her and she reached out to grab the back of the couch, for an anchor as things started falling into place. “You live in an abandoned house,” Neal ranted. “You always find money when you need it, you have a familiar, for Christ sakes!”

“Neal!” Ruby said warningly. “That’s enough.” Lacey looked up, tears prickling her eyes to find her friend at her side. Ruby draped her arm over her shoulders, holding her tight. “Enough,” she repeated firmly.

“Did you know?” Lacey whispered, turning to find DoDo’s eyes in the darkness by the fireplace. They stared back at her, seeing through her, past her and into her, as he stood immobile. Finally, his eyes shadowed as he nodded.

“You…you knew?” Lacey repeated, stepping away from Ruby. “All this time- How is it even possible?”

“It’s inherited,” DoDo said quietly, his usual flair and elegance gone. “Your mother-“

“My mother died when I was fourteen,” Lacey managed to say, tears starting to fall from her eyes. “She died. You told me yourself, witches live long lives-“

“I don’t know what happened to her,” DoDo said quietly,“but witches can die just like anyone else.”

Lacey turned away from him, shaking her head as she found Neal’s face through the haze of her tears. “You should have told me,” she growled at him. “I deserved to know.”

“You want all this?” Neal pointed towards the window. “The monsters and the ghouls and the darkness? You were better thinking you were mortal! You were safer!”

“Safer?” Ruby cut in. “If she had known, maybe she would have known better than to check a magical book out of a library. Maybe she would have thought twice about letting her idiot friend talk her into playing with things she doesn’t understand. You seriously are going to sit there, Neal, and reprimand her for things she couldn’t have possibly known?”

“It’s late,” Archie said, rubbing his eyes. “Neal, let’s get to the Inn before it’s sunrise. I for one want to get some sleep.”

Neal nodded, but he shot Lacey and his father one last look before they headed towards the door. Ruby hugged her goodbye. “I’ll text you when we get home,” she promised. And then, they took Pongo and were gone. Lacey left all alone in her apartment with her demon.

“So,” she said quietly, sitting down on the couch. “I summoned you.”

He didn’t respond. Queenie purring, made her way to her lap. The three of them stared there in silence for a bit, an unlikely tableau.

“I summoned someone else tonight,” Lacey finally said. “Do you know-“

“Don’t say his name,” DoDo said quickly, voice tinged with what could almost be alarm. Lacey nodded, sighing shakily as she let her eyes fall shut. The tears prickled and burned behind her lids but she could not cry again. She wouldn’t let herself.

“What happens now?” She asked, though she didn’t know if he knew any better than she did.

“We continue,” he said quietly, joining her. He sat down in the love seat, ramrod straight as he stared ahead.

“No,” Lacey negated, shaking her head. “No more. I want you out of my life-“

“Doesn’t work like that,” the Dark One scoffed. “You’re a witch with no idea how to use her powers, who has been linked in league with me by a powerful witch and an even more powerful demon.”

“The Nun-“

“The Nun didn’t see you because I cloaked you,” DoDo grumbled. “She would have know you were a witch the moment she saw you.”

“How?”

“Like recognizes like,” he said shortly with a shrug. “Witches can sense each other. You noticed Regina from a crowd, and I’m sure if you had not been distracted, you would have recognized the Nun for what she was as well.”

A million came to her tongue but she found herself saying, “I don’t want anything to do with you.”

“I’m afraid you’re stuck with me,” he shared with obvious pleasure. “I walk and you and your friends will be dead before the end of the year.”

Lacey closed her eyes, fingers tightening in Queenie’s fur. “Just go,” she begged. “I never wanted any of this….Please, just go-“

She stilled, as a sixth sense seemed to alert her to the change in the room. When she opened her eyes, the demon was gone.

Outside, Storybrooke was quiet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And there it is. 
> 
> Thank you all for reading my daily little story for the past month. I've had such fun growing it with you all and I can't believe October is already over! This story is far from done but this is a good...let's say series finale stopping point as November comes.
> 
> If you have enjoyed this story, please check out The Gate. It's also Dark Lace but in a much more fantasy setting and I will be working on it for NaNoWriMo all of November. All other stories, including the House Guest, will be paused at this time.
> 
> I hope you guys like this chapter, i know it's hard and not funny and really raw but a lot changed tonight and the characters have to process that. You all are amazing and thank you ChrissyKp, DeweyMay, Prissygirl, Rumbellegold11, Nevermore, Regalco, rowofstars, and everyone else who has been reading and reviewing this daily with me. You guys mean the world to me. 
> 
> See you in December.


	25. Chapter 25

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Dark One has many other names. 
> 
> (Remember how I said no updates until December? Well, I’m trash and it’s Friday the 13th so. )
> 
> Also, because i wanted to use this opportunity to show you this amazing artwork by Nia-Nita on tumblr. She's an amazing artist and I wanted to share her beautiful fan art of this story with you all!

                                                                     

_Friday, November 13th, 2015_

Outside, the sun was bright, almost unseasonably warm for a mid day in November on the rugged East Coast. Lacey could hear children playing in the park as she walked by, their screams and laughter like the ear piercing screeches of dinosaurs . She hurried past them, while she checked her cell phone to make sure she wasn’t going to be any later than she already was.

Arriving at her destination, Lacey double checked her map, the email that listed the time and place, before pulling the door open. Inside, a few people glanced up from their plates, before diving back into their lobster rolls and fries.

“Can I help you?” someone called out to her, balancing a tray of drinks on her arm and menus in the other.

Luckily, Lacey spotted who she was looking for at the bar, and with a quick word to the overworked hostess, made her way over. “Hey,” Lacey greeted as she settled down on the uncomfortable dining stool. “Couldn’t have picked a nicer place?”

“Best place in Salem,” Mal said pointedly, taking a long sip of her drink.

“It’s a tourist trap,” Lacey grumbled, looking over her shoulder at the various witch aficionados, some wearing all black and looking murderously at everyone from black rimmed eyes to the oversea tourists, chatting animatedly in various languages as their waitress tried to get them to focus on their order.

“The town may be,” Mal agreed. “But that’s what makes it a perfect place to hide out.”

Lacey’s shoulders twitched as she stared down at the white countertop. A waitress brought her a water and she shook her head when asked if she wanted anything more. A day trip down to Salem was bad enough, but coming down on a Friday had been hellish. She wanted nothing more than to speak to Mal, and get back to dodge.

“So,” Mal cut in on her thoughts, lifting a perfectly manicured finger to wave away the waitstaff. “I suppose you’ve finally figured it out?”

Lacey had, in fact, figured it out. She had been living with the knowledge that she was a witch for two weeks with only a book to guide her, a demon avoiding her, and a half breed who had disappeared back to New York. “No thanks to any of you,” she grumbled. “I summoned another demon before anyone thought to warn me-”

“Ah, I thought I sensed something new,” Mal said with a hint of a frown. “Tell me, did Balor warn you about today?”

“Who?” Lacey asked.

“The Dark One,” Mal clarified. “He has a few names after a couple of centuries, do try and keep up.”

No,” Lacey gritted, turning to better face the witch posing as a psychic. “But you’re going to.”

“Well, obviously,” Mal laughed, shooting her a look. “I wouldn’t have said anything otherwise.”

Lacey’s phone chimed in her pocket and she fished it out. Mal ignored it, ordering a bowl of clam chowder with extra crackers. Seeing it was a text from Archie, she quickly scanned it.

**Queenie got out again. Found her outside.**

Lacey shot back a quick message, asking him to watch her cat until she got back. The following **Wait, where are you?** she ignored.

“Familiar issues?” Mal asked innocently.

“Something like that,” Lacey grumbled, pocketing her phone. “Damn cat has been a nightmare since this whole thing started. Today, she somehow got out of my locked apartment-”

“Trying to protect you most likely,” the psychic explained. “My familiar’s been known to appear in my living room from time to time, scares the hell out of my clients.”

Puzzling over what kind of pet would scare people, Lacey hazarded a guess. “Snake?”

“Good god, no,” Mal laughed. “I’m from the Shetland Isles, not a lot there as far as animals.”

“You have a pony?” Lacey said in amazement. The dapper woman before her, long blonde hair expertly curled and pinned upwards, with her immaculate suit and heels, looked nothing like a woman who had a miniature pony in her backyard.

“Hmm,” Mal nodded. “Named Dragon, he’s a real demon.”

Lacey laughed, unable to help herself as she pictured a Shetland pony arriving in Mal’s small tea room in the middle of the reading without any warning, stomping and snorting as Mal tried to pacify him. “So, I should get used to this?”

“There’s quite a few things you’re going to have to get used to,” Mal said knowingly. “The first of which is your relationship with Balor.”

Lacey remained silent, nodding for Mal to continue. “He’s been around far longer than I have,” Mal began. “You are aware of witch’s life spans?”

“Faintly,” Lacey replied. “The book said-”

“Oh, so it found you,” Mal nodded. “That explains a few things.”

Blinking in surprise, Lacey drew it out of her purse, putting it on the table before them. “What do you see?”

“Same thing you do,” Mal told her. “ _A Modern Guide to Witchcraft and Wizardry._ Every witch owns it. Most are handed down from mother to daughter but…”

“She died,” Lacey said tersely. Mal nodded but wisely did not broach the subject further. “Now, you were saying?”

“If you’ve read it, you’ll know the basic guidelines of a witch’s duties. The largest one being to guard the realms from demons.”

“And I’ve summoned two in the past year,” Lacey replied. “But no one’s shown up at my door demanding to burn the witch.”

“Well, as far as self governing, mystics tend to be fairly open minded about their members. You have the ones who live in ignorance, the ones who live by the books, and then you have the mavericks. Since you’re unknown and in a small town with no history of mystics, I doubt anyone’s put the pieces together.”

Knowing a total of three witches lived now, the mayor, the nun and herself, Lacey wasn’t too sure about that. “Why haven’t any daemons shown up then?”

“Them?” Mal laughed. “They’re easily distracted. Now, if someone was to tip them off, there would be blood but I doubt anyone in Storybrooke wants that, so I’d assume you’re safe for now.”

“None of this makes any sense,” Lacey grumbled, wiping condensation off her water.

“Course it doesn’t,” Mal said, just as her bowl of soup came. Lacey’s stomach rumbled as she peered over at it, and to her surprise, another bowl was pushed in front of her.

Happy, she took the spoon and went to dive into it, until she noticed Mal was smirking over at her. “Happen often?” She asked. “Things you want just appearing?”

“I figured you ordered two,” Lacey said lamely, glancing down at the bowl.

“You must be very self centered,” Mal noted, turning back to her bowl. “It’s a wonder you’ve made it this far. The Balor I knew wouldn’t have hesitated for this long to use your ignorance against you.”

Lacey had read all about demons and their deals. She had quickly come to realize that the only reason DoDo hadn’t killed her, her friends or half the town was he was playing a long game concerning her soul. A witch’s soul, it had read transfer all a mystic’s power to the demon in possession of the soul, making them unstoppable while leaving the witch a mortal once more.

“You’ve thought about it then,” Mal said. “I thought you might have.”

“I don’t want this,” Lacey said, staring down into her soup. “I never asked for this-”

“It’s a legacy, not a gift,” Mal retorted harshly, “and child, you would not live a moment longer than a day if other witches, demons or the humans found out you knowingly sold your soul. You’d be the most despised creature in this realm or the next.”

Lacey had realized all of that but the real reason she had held on to her soul and power was a simpler reason. It had been her mother’s.

“So, what’s so special about today?” Lacey asked. “My familiar escapes my house, a witch I met once asks me to lunch, and my demonic roommate who has been MIA for the last two weeks shows up on my couch this morning.”

“You are unobservant, aren’t you?” Mal murmured. “It’s Friday the 13th, child.”

Glancing at the book, Lacey winced. “Okay?”

Sighing, Mal put her spoon down, pushing her soup back across the bar. “It’s considered an unlucky day because the Church wanted mortals to be wary. Read the Bible, Fridays are notorious for historically bad days. Jesus was crucified, the great rain that led to the floor, even the bite of original sin, were all on Fridays.’

‘As far as demons,” Mal continued as a waiter collected their empty bowls. “They love Friday the 13th because of the fear. Mortals are always so anxious, makes easy pickings.”

“And mystics?” Lacey asked. “I suppose we’re the real reason behind the mass hysteria?”

“We are at our weakest,” Mal answered candidly. “More of us are killed on Friday the 13th than any other day.”

Lacey stared back at her in disbelief. “So, that’s why you had me come to you? Put my ass on the line instead of yours?”

“You’re still not on the radar of the Church’s witches hunters or the demons. I thought perhaps it would be safe to draw you out of the clutches of Balor and that other thing you brought over. You’re welcome.”

“There’s been three this year,” Lacey recalled. She pulled out her phone to check the past two, curious as to why they had never bothered her.

“Ignoring that a trilogy in itself is very powerful, this is the third of the year, meaning every witch worth her salt is locked up somewhere safe. Except those of us strong enough to defend ourselves even today or those of us who ignorant enough to not know any better.”

Lacey barely heard her as she checked the dates. The past two had been in February and March, explaining a bit. DoDo had been summoned in April, she had still not touched the unseen world of magic then. Something tugged at her memory, and Lacey found herself going back a few years in her phone’s calendar, searching for the year-

“She died on a Friday the 13th, didn’t she?” Mal asked quietly. “My mother did as well.”

“Car accident,” Lacey croaked, staring down at the date, month and year she had been pulled out of class be told her mother was gone.

“Maybe,” Mal replied vaguely.

“Did you know her?” Lacey demanded, still staring down at the phone.

“No,” Mal said quietly. “I checked after you left last month. Colette French was not on any radars, she may not have even known herself.”

Lacey nodded, breathing deeply as she shut her phone back off and put it and the book back in her purse.

“Now,” Mal stood. “I need to get back to Dragon before he decides to tramp down Main Street looking for me. I’m sure you’re familiar will also be decidedly concerned.”

“You know,” Lacey said, standing up with Mal. The wait staff wished them a nice day, and Lacey realized it had been a while since she had picked up a check. She had always just assumed her companions had but she knew Mal hadn’t taken out her wallet either. “You could have just told me all this over the phone?”

“I could have,” Mal agreed, “but I didn’t want Balor eavesdropping. Word of advice, if you’re going to be a maverick, make deals with demons and pretend to be human, that’s fine but...”  Mal held up a finger. “Be careful of desire. A witch wants more than any other creature, we yearn, we need, we take and we lust. For power, for comfort, for love, for money, there’s a million ways it can manifest. And demons know this, so be careful.”

Lacey nodded, ignoring the odd burning in her gut. As much as she wanted to blame it on the chowder, she doubted the diner was to blame. It made sense. She had always wanted more, craved more and nothing had ever been enough.

“Now,” Mal sighed, glancing up at the warm autumn sun. “You should be heading back. If Balor wants to stop by sometime,” Mal grinned at her, the sun shining down on her pale golden hair. “You make sure to give him my card.”

And with that, the psychic witch turned and marched down the street. After a moment, she disappeared into the crowd, leaving Lacey standing in front of a diner with the knowledge she had no idea how to control her powers, what her limits were, had at least one demon waiting for her back in Storybrooke and the whole the day ruined for her.

She needed a drink.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I couldn’t pass up a Friday the 13th story guys. I just couldn’t. So, here’s more Mal, the town of Salem and a brief update on what’s been happening in the two weeks since we last saw Lacey. 
> 
> If you're missing the gang, please go check out The Gate which I'm working on for NaNoWriMo. It's more kick ass Lacey, Dark One Rumple and an epic non curse storyline that covers every fairytale story and then some, all while Lacey tried to survive so she can make it back to Storybrooke at the end of the year. It's got reluctant princess Emma, mute little mermaids, annoying wooden puppets and more dark castle than you can shake a stick at. PSA done. Miss you guys.


	26. Chapter 26

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Christmas is coming around and Neal and DoDo joins Lacey for shopping.

_December 3rd, 2015_

Lacey hated Christmas.

She hated the stations that played christmas music 24/7; she hated the lines and traffic that materialized even in the sleepy town of Stoyrbooke. The entire month of December snowballed into one large mess of twisted twinkling light strands, pine needles sticking to everything and everyone and the permeating smell of peppermint everywhere she went.

“If I see one more ugly christmas sweater,” Lacey groused under her breath, slamming the car door shut behind her. “I’m going to magic it off of them.”

“Bah, humbug, Grinch,” Neal shot back at her, unfolding himself from the driver’s seat. The usually quaint shops of Storybrooke were busy even for a Thursday. They had parked nearly four blocks down on some residential street, and Lacey glared down at the slush along the sidewalk as her suede booties were instantly soaked through.

Lacey leveled a withering glare at him from over her shoulder as he hurried to join her. “You’re over four hundred years old,” Lacey reminded him. “Bah, humbug is not the Grinch. It’s fucking Scrooge.”

“Who’s fucking Scrooge?” Mary Margaret appeared from behind them, shopping bags in hand as she beamed at them. With her white jacket and cap pulled low over her dark hair and her cheeks rosy with cold, she looked like she had stepped right out of a christmas ad.

“No one,” Lacey told her with a sigh. “Just correcting Neal’s christmas idioms.”

“Well bah, humbug to you too,” Mary Margaret said with a if possible even warmer smile. She turned towards Neal and he helpfully took some of the larger bags out of her hands. “Thanks! I’m Mary Margaret by the way, a friend of Lacey’s,” she said breathlessly. “Just out shopping after school. Only twenty two days left till Christmas!”

“Oh god,” Lacey groaned, as she jammed her mittened hands into her jacket pockets. “You’re one of them.”

Mary Margaret's face fell slightly as she looked down at the bags still in her hands. “Yes, well,” she murmured with a little nod. “I guess I should be heading back.”

“Ignore her,” Neal said, still holding on to the rest of Mary Margret’s purchases. “She’s been in a bad mood for over a month now.”

Mary Margaret nodded, throwing a questioning look at Lacey from under her lashes. “You never responded to my invite over for Friendsgiving dinner,” she said lowly. “Ariel said you were….under the weather.”

“Something like that,” Lacey mumbled, averting her eyes. Neal struck up an animated conversation with Mary Margaret about her plans for the holidays, which Lacey only half listened to. A month ago. Was it really only a month ago that a ouija board and a bottle of wine had revealed to her the truth?

A witch. She was a god-damn, fucking witch. And no one else but a waitress, a psychiatrist, a witch, a demon and a half breed knew.

“I’d love to!”

Realizing something had just been decided while she had been sulking, Lacey blinked at the two of them. Neal was popping the trunk and storing Mary Margret’s things as if they didn’t already have plans. “Wait, what?”

“Ready?” Neal asked as he closed the lid, and locked the car. Mary Margaret nodded happily and fell in line beside him as they brushed past Lacey. Despite only just meeting, it seemed Mary Margaret had been invited along on the shopping trip.

“Why did you make me come with you if you were going to have her help you?” Lacey grumbled. She had been more than happy staying in her apartment, wearing yoga pants and drinking her dinner. Until Neal, son of the Dark One, came barging in this morning, requesting her help shopping of all the asinine things.

Neal shook his head, hidden under a hoodie. “Mary Margaret gets discounts,” he repeated without turning around.

“Perks of being a teacher!” she chirped, rubbing her hands together. “Plus, I didn’t have any plans this afternoon anyways.”

Lacey felt the brief sting of guilt before she brushed away. She hadn’t been rude to just Mary Margret after all. Archie hadn’t bothered coming to see her since that night, nor had Ruby. It had been easy to shut Ariel and Mary Margret out when the two people who knew what she was had disappeared on her.

Not to mention DoDo.

DoDo, who drove her crazy, who hogged her remote and drank all her wine, the creature responsible for this entire mess- had become only a faint memory. With the exception of his one brief appearance in mid November, a day she had later found out from Mal had been the best day of the year to kill a witch, he had been absent from her life. Only Neal had texted her, refused to give up on her and it was only those few texts that had even prevented her from trying to enchant him into a toad when he had dragged her out to the car to go shopping.

“Hey look,” Lacey started, stammering over the syllable slightly. Neal didn’t pause, but Mary Margaret fell back to walk beside her. “I’m sorry about never texting you back, okay?”

Mary Margaret simply nodded. “It’s okay. Things happen.”

Lacey smirked, nudging her slightly with her shoulder. “You’re too nice,” she complained, even if there was open affection in the tone. “I like the sassy Mary Margaret. Where did she go?”

“Hibernating,” she replied with a small laugh. “Besides, it’s Christmas!”

As they reached the main street, Lacey was soon swept up in the crowds. Mary Margaret was surprisingly determined, moving through crowds as if they weren’t there. After two stores, Neal suggested coffee at Chip’s, to which both of them readily agreed.

Again, Mary Margaret was a surprise. As one harried woman cut in front of Neal, who stepped back obligingly, Mary Margaret stepped around him and tapped the woman on the shoulder. “Excuse me,” she smiled brilliantly as the other woman turned to give her a disapproving stare, her phone glued to her ear. “But we’re in line.”

The woman simply turned back around, shaking her head as she continued her conversation. Mary Margaret was not to be ignored. With another tap, she secured the woman’s brief attention before she shrugged her off.

Lacey stepped in to intervene but Mary Margaret didn’t need it. Within moments, she had fished the woman’s phone out of her grip and dropped it neatly into the trash bin across from them.

The woman screeched, diving in after her expensive smart phone. Mary Margret simply stepped to the register, smiling winningly at the clearly nervous clerk.

“A tall peppermint mocha for Mary Margaret, a breve misto for Neal, and an espresso for Lacey,” Mary Margaret said, ignoring the woman’s grumblings behind her as she brushed trash off her sleeve.

“I got it,” Neal said, sliding between Mary Margaret and the cashier. The young man looked nervously from the smiling woman in front of him to the woman stomping out the door, trash phone in hand. He caught Lacey’s eyes who simply raised an eyebrow at him.

“It’s on the house,” another barista said, coming up from behind his stuttering coworker. He shook his head at Neal’s offered card. “Been a while, Ms. Blanchard.”

“Hansel Zimmer,” Mary Margaret greeted in pleasant surprise. “How’s your sister?”

Neal tipped generously as Lacey took the beverages from the barista at the other side of the bar as Mary Margaret finished catching up with her old student. Two more teenage baristas stopped to exchange pleasantries as Lacey watched in puzzled silence. Neal meanwhile was flicking through his own phone. Lacey looked over at it, frowning as she read through the last text exchange.

“That your godmother?” she asked, wrinkling her nose at the colorful language. “Seems like a fun old bird.”

“She’s a character,” Neal sighed, “and impossible to shop for.”

“Which is why you’ve recruited the world’s worst shopper,” Lacey reminded him, before nodding towards a happily chit chatting Mary Margaret. “As well as the world’s best shopper.”

He flashed her a grin as she took a long sip of her bitter beverage. The line was growing longer, and the baristas slowly broke away to return to their work. “Sorry about that,” Mary Margaret said with a happy sigh, taking her peppermint flavored drink from Lacey’s hand. “Now, where to next?”

“How about La Grande Bouche?” Lacey suggested. “High end clothing.”

“Perfect,” Neal replied. He had filled both of them in at the previous stores about his godmother and her proclivity to furs, pearls and monotones. Being a very wealthy widow, she had little need for Neal to spend a fortune on her, but he seemed determined to get her a gift she would at least like.

“How is you have a godmother again?” Lacey asked him, as Mary Margaret cut through the crowded sidewalk like butter.

“Her and Papa go back a ways,” he said with a shake of his head. “During the 1920’s, I got in a little trouble with some the law. She let me lay low at her husband’s speakeasy for a few weeks, and family’s always a good cover story. Guess it just stuck.”

“Demon? Witch?” Lacey asked, keeping an eye on Mary Margaret's bobbing head. She paused to throw away her empty cup and Neal did the same.

“Kind of like me,” he said. “Think her mother was a half breed and her father was a witch of some kind. She’s not really sure either.”

“Ageless?”

“And can control animals,” he said with a shrug as Lacey threw an incredulous look at him. “Funny thing is she hates animals.”

“God,” Lacey murmured. “Remind me to never go to your house for Thanksgiving.”

“Won’t be a problem,” he smiled. “Demons don’t do Thanksgiving.”

“Well, we would if we were invited.”

“Jesus,” Lacey yelped, stopping dead in her tracks as the man suddenly materialized directly before them. Ahead of her, she saw Mary Margret stop, turning and frowning when she realized they weren’t right behind her.

Neal crossed his arms over his chest. “Papa.”

“Is that any way to greet your father?” DoDo asked, his voice that low baritone with the faintest hint of an accent. It was miles different from his giggling high pitched sing song trademark sound. His scales and leathers were gone too, replaced by a wool overcoat and expensive shoes.

“Nice to see you too,” Lacey muttered, as her heart started to thud faster and faster in her chest. There was nothing to be afraid of, she reminded herself as she glared at him. He returned her stare in amusement, her own reflection staring back at her in his dark eyes. “Miss me?”

“Always,” he said, a small tug at the corner of his lips. Lacey felt a shiver run down her back as he switched his attention to his son. “Bae,” he said with a touch of irritation in his voice. “What’s this I hear about you staying with Cruella?”

“Cruella?” Lacey repeated in amazement. “You’re Godmother’s name is Cruella?”

“De Ville,” Neal finished with a grim smile. “Yea, Papa, I’m staying with Auntie Cruella.”

Gold scoffed but before he could respond Mary Margaret had joined them. She looked from Gold to Lacey with a confusion but greeted him nevertheless. “Nice to see you again,” she said, dropping her gloved hand from his. She still wasn’t the biggest fan of Gold, understandable considering he had been a large reason why she had broken off her affair with David.

“Out Christmas shopping?” Gold asked, lifting an eyebrow.

When Neal nor Lacey responded, Mary Margaret made a valiant effort. “For Neal’s Godmother, actually. Says she can buy anything in New York, so he thought perhaps Storybrooke might have some hidden treasures.”

“Did he?” Gold asked, lifting a brow. “Well, then. I won’t keep you.”

“Wait,” Lacey said as he turned to leave. Neal looked at her in an astonished way and she realized her arm was on his father’s sleeve. “Your scarf is all bunched up, here let me…” Leaning in as if to fix his scarf, already immaculately draped, she whispered into his ear,” Get me the hell out of here.”

Straightening, she rocked back on her heels. “Collar was crooked,” Lacey said in explanation to the twin stares of her companions. Mary Margaret, already assuming Gold was her paramour looked skeptical but remained silent. Neal on the other hand was glaring at her from over Mary Margaret’s shoulder.

“Actually,” Gold said, lingering on the word. “I was going to run some of my own errands, perhaps you’d like to join me?” He asked, directing the question to Lacey. His face was a mask of polite interest, only his eyes glittered with secret amusement.

“You don’t mind, do you Neal?” Lacey asked, linking her arm through Gold’s offered one.

“You know what you’re doing,” he replied tonelessly. Mary Margaret looked up at him confused before turning her large eyes on Lacey.

“See you kids later,” Lacey said, pulling Gold in the opposite direction of the shop. “I know a bar,” she sighed as they disappeared into the crowd. She was going to fill him up with liquor and then she was going to drag out of him why he had left, where he had been and what the hell he had been thinking.

\--

“Why on Earth would you care about Neal’s mother?” Gold asked incredulously, putting his seventh straight whiskey down on the bar surface rather harder than necessary. The bartender at the Ballroom Bar shot them a look, but Lacey shook her head at him.

Two hours later, and finally, finally, Gold was showing the signs of being slightly drunk. Lacey desperately hoped her weird little powers would work on the bartender, because there was no way she could afford the label whiskey Gold had been knocking back.

“Curious is all,” she said, propping up with an elbow on the bar. He furrowed his brow at her, as she slid his empty glass back to the bartender for him to refill. Two hours of coy comments, guarded answers about current situations and the odd little riddle. If Gold didn’t spill soon, she’d have to pull that book out again and find out what made demons talk.

Luckily it seemed whiskey would do the trick nicely.

“Milah was a witch,” he told her, taking the newly poured drink from the bartender with a small toast of the glass.

“Now, that’s not nice,” Lacey chastised him, smiling as he took another heavy drink of the amber liquid.

“It’s true,” he said. “A seer to be precise.”

“Like Mal?” Lacey asked him. The Salem based witch had told her few things, but at their first meeting she had looked into Lacey’s future with the ease of a true seer.

He frowned at her. “In a manner of speaking,” he decided. “Milah shared Mal’s survival instincts and ruthlessness in achieving her goals.”

“She made a deal with you,” Lacey remembered. “For a son.”

“A heir,” he corrected, “but all magic comes with a price.”

“Her life for his?” Lacey guessed, remembering some of the more arcane passages in the old book.

Gold nodded. “Basically.”

Lacey nodded, taking a sip of her own red wine as she mulled it over. Ever since she had learned she was a witch, it had been easy to figure out why the Dark One had taken such an interest in her. A witch’s soul, unlimited power, la de blah. But he had disappeared. He had given up. He had left her alone-

Recoiling from this line of thought, Lacey returned back to her line of questioning. After all, if she could find out about the witches in his past, it might show his pattern. She knew from Neal that his mother had been a witch, but had there been others? Why had he failed to win their souls?

“Seems unfair,” Lacey said quietly.

“A life for a life,” was all he said in return.

Lost as how to ask him about his other dalliances, Lacey found herself staring at a nearby drinker, lounging at the other end of the bar. He lifted his glass at her and she instinctively smiled back, a flirtatious, promising grin.

It wasn’t until Gold slammed his decanter back down that Lacey realized he had noticed as well. “Should be going,” he grunted, moving to stand.

“Disappearing again?” Lacey snapped, instantly regretting it as his eyes settled on hers. He wasn’t drunk, Lacey realized as he stared down at her. No, his eyes had lost that clouded look and she cursed herself as she remembered demons had a magic all their own.

“I’ll remind you,” he said in a low even tone, “that you summoned a very powerful being into this world, this very town. If you were wise, you would follow my example and leave this place.”

“And then what?” Lacey demanded. “Run for the rest of my life?”

Gold shook his head, staring down at her. “He wouldn’t bother with you. No, not at first,” he told her with a nasty smirk. “He’d stay here. Within a year it would be his. Those friends of yours, that man you are busy eye fucking- they’d all be his.”

“He hasn’t done anything yet,” Lacey reminded him. “Maybe-”

“He has,” Gold interrupted her. “Maybe you don’t know it, maybe it hasn’t touched your selfish little life yet but it will. He knows you. He knows you know me. The longer you stay here, the more risk you put yourself in. Forget the rest, they’re already dead.”

Lacey didn’t look away from him. She ignored the way her heart sped up, the way fear was building in her chest, hopelessness infecting her even as her better judgement fought against it. “You haven’t answered who he is.”

“There you two are.”

Neal and Mary Margaret joined them at the bar, putting down one large bag as they caught the bartender’s attention. “A bottle of your finest merlot,” Neal said in relief. “I owe the lady here a beverage.”

Lacey knew it was over. Gold had already stood up and was putting his jacket on, eyes never leaving her face. “I should be going,” he said. “Pleasure to see you all.”

And with that, he left. Lacey watched him go, before she caught Neal watching her and wrenched her eyes back to her half empty glass. Mary Margaret excused herself to the bathroom, leaving Neal and Lacey alone with a bottle of wine.

“What did you get?” Lacey asked.

“You don’t really care,” Neal replied. “What was all that about?”

Lacey shrugged, helping herself to the wine. “Hadn’t seen him in a while. Wanted to catch up.”

“Bullshit,” Neal murmured. “You’re a lousy liar, you know that?”

“Excuse me?”

Lacey looked up to find the man from the other end of the bar had joined them. “Is this man bothering you?” he asked, shooting a look at Neal in his hoodie and frayed jeans. The Ballroom Bar was high class and at a weekday happy hour, Neal looked out of his place.

“No,” Lacey replied, uncrossing her legs, “but he’s not entertaining me either.”

“I could help with that,” the stranger replied. “Name’s Brad.”

“Brad,” Lacey said, taking his hand with a smile. “I think they have private booths in the back.”

“Lead the way,” he said with a grin. Lacey threw a look over her shoulder at Neal but he was ignoring her, shaking his head as he pulled out his phone. Disappearing into the back, Lacey knew she would have to apologize later. Neal hadn’t deserved that. It was just… she hadn’t realized how mad she had been at him still.  
  
He hadn’t had the decency to warn her about what she was, about what she could do. All the time she had thought they were friends, and he had been hiding the knowledge she was more than just a regular woman. That she had inherited magical from her mother, her dead mother. He had known, and he hadn’t told her. She had a brief happy thought of him being saddled with his father’s bill before she remembered Mary Margaret.

“Hey, I just need to use the ladies room for a minute,” Lacey apologized, stopping outside the door. Brad nodded, disappearing into the nearby booth where a waitress hurried over to take his order. She would say goodbye to Mary Margaret, flag down a waitress to make sure her bar bill was taken care of and enjoy an evening with whatever his name was.

And in the morning, she was going to make the Dark One sorry he had ever stepped foot in Storybrooke.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! Missed you all! Finished my NaNoWriMo so if you are a fan of The Gate, get ready for new chapters in the upcoming weeks! Hoped you enjoyed this first look back at where the gang's been since that fateful night, this is technically Season 2 or Part 2 or whatever of this little sitcom drama.


	27. Chapter 27

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lacey meets Jefferson.

_December 8th, 2015_

There was a strange man in her bathroom.

He hadn’t been there ten minutes ago, and unless Lacey had somehow missed someone entering her apartment as she sat on the couch reading, he hadn’t come in the front door either.

Standing slowly, Lacey clenched her right hand, trying to remember the incantation for a protection spell and failing miserably. In the bath, the stranger had his back towards her, bent over something he was holding in his hand. Angling to see better, Lacey moved a foot to her left until she could clearly see into the mirror over the sink. Dirty as it was, she could make out the rough features of a man, a rather attractive man.

Still, he was a strange man in her bathroom. And with the threat of a new demon running rampant in the town, Lacey doubted this was a social call. She took a step forward, wincing as the floorboard creaked under her weight. Pausing, the stranger lifted his head just a fraction as if listening to the air around him. Lacey remained perfectly still, hardly breathing despite the thumping heart beat in her chest. Satisfied, the man returned to the object in his hand which Lacey was now able to identify.

“Put that down!”

Startled into dropping her vibrator onto the floor, the stranger whipped around, eyes widening under his heavy brows as he brandished what looked like a hat at her. “Stay back!” he demanded, waving the brocade heavy top hat at her like a matador's cape. “Who are you? How did you get here?”

“You’re in my apartment!” Lacey reminded him; she stayed exactly where she was. “I should be asking you!”

Relaxing instantaneously, the stranger shot her a sleepy little smile, plopping the hat over his curls. It promptly sank down to just over his eyes, leaving her staring in confusion at his dazzling teeth and his clefted chin. “Oops,” he shrugged. “Forgot. Happens, you know.”

Lacey sighed, crossing her hands over her chest. Whoever he was, he didn’t seem much of a threat. “What are you on?” she asked, moving towards him. “Mary Jane? Molly? Lucy?”

His little smile faded as he tugged his hat up to rest on his brow. He turned to stare up at the overhead lighting in the bath, as if the answer was hidden in the too bright light. “Such lovely ladies,” he said sweetly, “but I’m afraid it’s just you and me, Lacey.”

Swallowing, Lacey pulled her cell phone of her pocket. She hated to call the authorities on a pot head but he knew her by name. He had also somehow managed to break into her apartment without her even noticing. She would have to look over those ward protection runes again in the morning, maybe she should at least attempt one.

“Why, hello there.”

Lacey glanced back up to see who he was talking to and found her cat wrapped around the stranger’s legs, purring madly. “Queenie,” Lacey grumbled, slipping her phone back into her back pocket. “Stop flirting with the junkie.”

“Queenie?” the junkie asked, leaning down to pick up the strange colored feline. Queenie instantly head butted against his chin, scratching her own whiskers on his stubbled jawline. Lacey twisted her lips, trying not to be jealous of a cat. “No, no,” he purred back, his strange blue eyes staring into Queenie’s mismatched ones. “This is Kuningatar.”

He pronounced the odd word with ease, and Queenie instantly went boneless. Lacey stared at the tableau before her in slack jaw surprise as her familiar closed her eyes and sank her head onto the junkie’s shoulder, purring as if demented.

“Okay,” Lacey said, growing irritated. “Who are you?”

Without looking up from Queenie, the junkie replied. “Don’t you mean what?”

For a moment, Lacey stared at him before realization dawned on her. Not who, but what. “Oh, great,” Lacey growled, turning to aim a frustrated kick at her love seat. “Just what I need, another demented magical moron wandering around town!”

“I’m not,” the junkie protested, stepping out of the bathroom. Lacey ignored him, already moving to the kitchen to pour herself a glass of wine. Outside, the mid morning sun was bright despite the cool temperatures. She glanced down at Archie’s house, noticing sadly the curtains were all drawn.

“Not what?” Lacey asked, popping a cork off the malbec she had been saving.

“A moron,” he replied. Queenie meowed in protest. Lacey glanced over her shoulder to see the junkie had settled on the back of the couch, having let Queenie down. The feline now sat at his feet, staring up at him forlornly.

“Oh?”

“I’m Jefferson,” he said nonchalantly.

Lacey didn’t bother asking him if he wanted anything to drink. She settled herself at the table and stared him down. “Okay, Jefferson,” she said, “that answers who. Now, what are you?”

“A half breed,” he answered, crossing his arms over his chest. Lacey let her gaze linger on his form, taking in the well built form under his odd ensemble. With the exception of the blood red scarf knotted neatly around his neck, his attire looked remarkably like-

“You’re here for DoDo, aren’t you?” Lacey realized, propping her chin up on one fist. “God, I should have known.” She sighed, helping herself to a large drink as she fished her phone out of her pocket. “Well, he isn’t here. Hasn’t been for a while. I can give you his son’s number, see if he can help you find him.”

“I came to speak with you. I know exactly where the Dark One is,” Jefferson interrupted. Lacey paused in the text she had been writing to Neal, frowning as Jefferson joined her at the table. “Do you have any tea?”

“Tea?” Lacey repeated. “You’re joking right?”

“I never joke about tea,” Jefferson stated calmly. He put his top hat on the table before him, and stared over the top of it at her. “Do you?”

“Do I joke about tea?”

He shook his head, his clear blue eyes staying on her face the entire time. “Do you know where the Dark One is?”

“No,” Lacey grunted. “Nor do I care.”

“Odd,” Jefferson said. “It seems that you do. Why lie about something as trivial as caring?”

“Look, Jeff,” Lacey said, leaning forward in her chair to knock his odd hat off the table. “You’re the one who materialized in my bathroom and began going through my things-” she paused, leveling a warning finger at him. “My private things. I’m well within my right to magic you into the middle of the Sahara.”

“But you can’t,” Jefferson said, leaning over to collect his hat from the floor. “You don’t believe in magic. So, it doesn’t believe in you.”

“I am not having this conversation,” Lacey said, standing abruptly and heading to the front door. She pulled it open, turning and facing the serene face of her junkie magical caller. “You need to leave.”

“He’s in Storybrooke,” Jefferson told her, standing and heading towards the cabinets. After a moment, Queenie joined him on the counter, purring and butting her head against his sternum as he began to search through Lacey’s kitchen. “Got himself a house on the edge of town.”

Lacey realized she had closed the door when she found herself leaning against it. As Jefferson moved about the kitchen, she slumped down until she had her knees pressed against her chest and her arms dangling over them.

So, DoDo had settled in Storybrooke. Neal had told her about his little liaison with the Cora woman, staying with her for over ten years during the Second French Empire and she knew about his time in court when Neal had still been young. But that was it. Those two incidents were the only times that the Dark One had ever settled for a long enough time to be memorable and now, he was living in Storybrooke. Why?

“Tea?”

Lacey looked up to find Jefferson holding out a mug of steaming amber liquid, which smelled of honey and peppermint. She took it in a daze, staring down at it as the warmth begin to seep through the porcelain mug and into her palms. She lifted it to her lips and sipped it, sighing instinctively in pleasure as the scents wafted to her nose and the tastes burst onto her tongue.

“See?” Jefferson smiled, pouring himself a cup. “Tea.”

“Not poisoned, is it?” Lacey asked, dipping a pinkie into it and swirling the warm liquid around.

“Not to my knowledge,” Jefferson told her, pulling her hand out. Lacey waved him away. He moved to pour out the rest of her malbec before Lacey could open her mouth to protest. He mercifully corked the bottle and rinsed out her glass before settling himself back at the table. Queenie joined him, jumping up on his lap to knead at his thighs before settling down. “You need a tea kettle. Microwaved tea isn’t real tea.”

“I’ll add it to the list.” After a moment of silence, Lacey grew uncomfortable. “I’m a witch,” Lacey told him. “Guess you knew that?”

Jefferson glanced over at her, scratching Queenie’s ears absently. “So he’s told me,” he replied. He did not clarify who ‘he’ was nor did Lacey have to ask. “Although I assumed you would have further progressed by now. A few compulsion charms isn’t much to go on.”

“Gets me by,” Lacey said, waving a vague hand around her place. “Never knew that’s what I was doing,” she confessed with a tiny shrug. “Just thought I had good people skills.”

“You?” Jefferson laughed, throwing his head back and exposing his throat. Lacey noticed two lines slicing across it, faint but still present. When he straightened, he was wiping tears from his eyes. “Lacey French, a people person. My stars, that’s the funniest thing I’ve heard this decade.”

“Shut up,” Lacey protested uneasily. She had never heard of this man but he seemed to know an awfully lot about her. “I’m working on it!”

“Lying again,” Jefferson sighed. “Always lying, aren’t you?”

“You don’t know me,” Lacey pointed out, swishing the liquid around in her mug. “You’re just a magical misfit who violated my personal space.”

He sighed, bowing his head. “I apologize. I arrived in your water closet and I’m afraid my curiosity rather got the best of me.”

“That’ll be the death of you,” Lacey warned him, although there was no real threat in her voice. He nodded absently, as if agreeing with her regardless. “So, why are you here now then?”

“The Dark One sent for me,” he replied. He laid one hand flat against the top of his hat, fingers pressing gently into the fabric. Queenie jumped off his lap, disappearing under the table. “He has a deal for me.”

“A deal?”

Jefferson shook his head at her. “Not that kind of deal. Demons only deal souls with mortals. Half breeds have no souls.”

“You don’t…” Lacey trailed off, remembering Neal. “I didn’t know that,” she said faintly. “It’s not in the book.”

“Wouldn’t be,” Jefferson told her. “Witches don’t have much interest in souls. Now, a half breed’s blood, nail or hair- that’s probably mentioned heavily in creation rituals, right?” Lacey nodded, remembering feeling grossed out about the casual harvesting instructions on the page beside the first spell ingredient list. Jefferson smiled. “I’m a hopper myself,” he patted his hat. “Can’t hop if you have a soul.”

“Hop?” Lacey asked, pushing her legs out as she slumped further against the door.

“Transportation,” Jefferson clarified, patting his hat again. “Appearing and disappearing at will through the use of a magical assisted device.”

“Which is your hat,” Lacey replied. She had read over the transportation two or three times, having not understood a lick of it. Apparently, witches could fly with the use of a magical device, most commonly a broom in the western countries and a carpet in the east. Demons were able to come and go at will, not needing any assistance to travel from one place to the next or from one world to the next. Then, there was the briefest mention of an inbetween possibility, to which Lacey know could label thanks to Jefferson as hoppers.

“Clever girl.”

Lacey smiled before she realized he was speaking to her cat. Queenie had reappeared in his lap, proudly offering him something held tight in her teeth. As Jefferson took it from her, Lacey could see it was-

Jumping to her feet, Lacey strode over and grabbed the bright pink vibrator out Jefferson’s palm, swatting at Queenie half heartedly as she flushed red. “What is it with you and this thing!” She demanded, pocketing it. “It’s private!”

“It’s buzzy,” Jefferson said happily, cocking his head to look up at her. “And so colorful! Why is it so loud and bright if you don’t want anyone to see it?”

“I don’t know,” Lacey grumbled, stomping into the bathroom to put it back in the medicine cabinet. “I didn’t make it!”

“Change it then,” Jefferson called after her.

Lacey paused, glancing in the mirror at herself and then down at the object lying in her palm. A simple transformation incantation, a simple want- and it would go at black as midnight or as blue as the sea.

For a brief moment, the pink darkened, turning almost purple before Lacey shook her head frantically. She pulled the medicine cabinet mirror open, stashed the once again bright pink vibrator inside and shut the glass behind it.

When she reappeared in the living room, Jefferson was gone.

“Stupid magical junkie,” Lacey mumbled to herself, moving to clean up the tea things. She went to pour herself another glass of wine but stopped with a sigh, as the clock over the stove flipped to read noon. She found the small bag of tea bags Jefferson had unearthed, fingering the label as she stared outside.

Queenie joined her at the window, letting out a short sad yowl as she flicked her tail against the counter. “Hush you, traitor,” Lacey told her fondly, reaching for a can of tuna for lunch. “You keep up this magical man attachment routine of yours and I’m getting a dog.”

Despite the fact that Queenie refused to sit with her the rest of the day, the empty threat was well worth it to see the look of dismay on her familiar’s face.  
\--

“There you are.”

Jefferson craned his neck over his shoulder to find the owner of the house standing in the kitchen doorway, frowning at him. He returned to fiddling with the tea kettle on the stove, enjoying the old fashioned metallic finishings.

“Took you long enough,” the Dark One grumbled, moving back into the living room. Jefferson followed, with one last longing look at the tea kettle. “Now, then. I have a deal for you.”

Jefferson listened as the Dark One made his request. It was to the point but all reasonings or explanations were kept vague. The Dark One lied. The Dark One tricked but Jefferson had learned long ago when his friend was being false with him.

“So, I do this,” Jefferson said finally, smirking at the Dark One who had settled into a wing back chair across the room. “And you’ll use the power you acquire to help me with my search?”

“It’s what I just said, wasn’t it?” he answered, splaying his hands out before him. Jefferson felt a small thrill go through him, hope was a dangerous thing, something he had not let himself dare feel since the last disappointment had cost him everything. “So, do we have a deal?”

Jefferson had gone to visit the witch prior for a reason. He had wanted to know if her soul was worth saving. He had found a disillusioned liar, on the edge of giving up and utterly lost. He had seen himself in the blue eyes of the witch, heard himself in the way she had denied her birthright and tasted his own descent into madness as she had poured herself a glass of red wine before the sun had reached its zenith.

And so, Jefferson nodded.

“We have a deal.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah, such a fun prompt from Regal! I was looking forward to this one for a while and though at the moment, Jefferson and DoDo haven't gotten into any shenanigans just wait!


	28. Chapter 28

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> While out with DoDo in his human appearance, Lacey gets extremely annoyed that women keep hitting on him.

 

_Friday December 11th, 2015_

In a place like Storybrooke, few things happened without the entire town finding out about it sooner or later. The twin affairs of the Nolans had been common knowledge by the morning after the infamous Halloween party, Keith Nottingham’s sudden illness and subsequent move to Boston had been all anyone had talked about for weeks, and now, someone had finally purchased the famed Salmon Mansion off Eastland.

A bachelor, rumor had it, that had often been seen in the company of Lacey French. Despite his purchase of the rather opulent house, no one knew anything other than his last name; which was confirmed to be Gold. A few curious neighbors went so far as to ring the doorbell, ending up standing on the front porch for nearly five minutes before they gave up and went home, fruit cakes and chocolate pies still in hand.

In fact, the only person anyone had seen beside Gold come and go from the house was David Nolan, who everyone knew was in the process of a messy separation. His wife had kicked him out of the house, and most people assumed he was now staying with this Gold, although no one quite could figure out how the two of them knew each other.

Even Granny Lucas, famous for her lasagna and hamburgers as well as her take no prisoners attitude for gossip, was at a loss to explain the newcomer. Most of her regulars forgave her for this as everyone knew her granddaughter Ruby, always promiscuous in the past, had become reclusive and withdrawn in the past few months, leading many to believe the young woman pregnant and hiding away until she could get rid of it.

No one bothered to think to ask Lacey French. Not until the night she appeared at the Rabbit Hole accompanied by the very man of the hour himself.

“Remind me again,” Lacey asked as she settled into her usual table at the back of the pool hall. “Why you wanted to meet me here?”

“It’s Friday night,” Gold said, seating himself in the chair across from her. He lifted a hand, catching the attention of a waitress, who came hurrying towards them. “I didn’t want to disturb your usual routine.”

Before Lacey could respond to exactly what she thought of that, the waitress appeared beside them, beaming brightly at Gold. “Do you remember me?” she asked breathlessly, toying with a piece of sunflower colored hair between her fingers.

Gold nodded, a small smirk appearing on his face as he greeted her by name. “Goldie,” he said warmly. “Who could forget such a beautiful name?”

“Mr. Gold,” Goldie giggled, gently reaching out to touch his bicep briefly. “You’re teasing me.”

“No,” Gold said earnestly, a snaggle toothed smile barely appearing. “I would never.”

Forced to watch this sickening display, made worse Lacey was sure because she knew what was hidden underneath that glamour spell of his, she cleared her throat until the two of them looked over at her in puzzlement. “I’ll take a pitcher of your best porter,” Lacey decided, handing over the unnecessary food menu left at the table.

“Two glasses?” Goldie asked, pouting prettily as she turned her attention back to her intended target. He shook his head, ordering a scotch on the rocks before Goldie turned and scampered back to the bar. Gold didn’t even watch her leave, returning his attention to Lacey who stared back at him irritability.

“Is this revenge for earlier this week?” Lacey demanded, crossing her arms as she leaned back in her high top chair. “That’s just sad.”

Gold lifted an eyebrow, glancing back at Goldie before letting out a soft chuckle. “No,” he said with a small shake of his head. “This is not revenge. I was serious when I said I didn’t want to disturb your routine.”

“Never stopped you before,” Lacey reminded him. It had been over a month since he had appeared in her flat without warning or invitation. Weeks since the television set had been turned on, Lacey preferring the books she could find online about her witch heritage.

Six out of ten had been useless, but she had actually found a few that seemed to touch upon the mystical mumbo jumbo that she had somehow fallen head first into. So far, she was sticking to reading. She hadn’t tried the spells, incantations, hexes or jinxes, had stayed away from the potion ingredient lists and turned a blind eye to the runes and symbolism translations. The only thing she had actively researched was half breeds, which there was little on, and the occasional reading about familiars.

“Things are different,” Gold reminded her in turn. “Before you didn’t know you were a witch.”

“Shut up,” Lacey hissed, glancing around to see if anyone had overheard. She noticed Goldie still at the bar, jiggling up and down as the bartender rooted around the liquor cabinets for something. “What if someone hears you?”

“You’ve been called worse,” Gold pointed out, flicking open the button on his over coat and shrugging it off. Despite it being true, Lacey still frowned at him as she leaned forward.

“Fine, let’s just get this over with then. What’s so important that you needed to talk tonight?”

“It’s been brought to my attention,” Gold began, folding his hands on the table before him. “That our Madame Mayor is aware of the new presences in her town. She’s called me to her office later this week to discuss my intentions.”

“Has she?” Lacey said in laughing disbelief. “You’re actually going to go?”

“Of course,” Gold said with a small shrug of his shoulders. “Not often an old student of mine wants to catch up.”

Lacey fell silent, unable to find words despite the mocking twinkle that appeared in Gold’s eyes. She barely roused herself enough to move out of the way when Goldie came back to the table, drinks in hand. She deposited Lacey’s porter and glass unceremoniously on the table, before graciously handing over Gold’s drink to his waiting hands, smiling coyly as their fingers brushed each others.

“Thank you, dearie,” Gold said, giving her a tiny wink before turning back to face Lacey across the table. Goldie bit her lip, turning and fleeing back to the bar as Lacey was left trying to comprehend what Gold had just told her. “Might want to shut your mouth,” Gold suggested, taking a drink of his scotch. “You look ridiculous.”

“Your student?” Lacey managed to ground out. Gold snagged her glass, pouring her a tall glass of porter expertly before sliding it back over to her. She caught it with her left hand, the right already rising to point at him accusingly. “You piece of shit!”

“Now, now,” Gold replied, although his tone was much lower and he glanced towards their right at a group starting to play pool. “That’s no way to speak to your elders.”

“Screw you,” Lacey grumbled, taking a long drink. The porter turned out to be chocolate flavored, sweeter than she had expected. “You never mentioned that you had trained a witch.”

“Regina wasn’t my first,” he said with a shrug, “but she was my last.”

Lacey ignored the bitter taste in her mouth, taking another heady sip of beer to chase it away. “Fine,” she grumbled, wiping some of the froth off her upper lip with her sleeve. “So, you’re going to tell her about me?”

“Probably,” he said with a nod. “She’s more interested in the Nun at the moment, but an awakened adult witch is fairly rare.” At Lacey’s incredulous stare, he continued. “I assure you, you’d rather Regina find out about you before Reul Ghorm does.”

“Excuse me?”

Startled, Lacey turned to find a familiar pair of women standing before them, smiling wolfishly over at Gold. They had approached from behind her, standing now beside him, and effectively putting their ample backsides to Lacey.

“I’m Anastasia,” the red-headed one giggled.

“I’m Dru,” the other one hurried to add, shaking her mess of black curls as if to accentuate that there was nothing in her head than air. “We saw you here a couple months ago.”

“Ah yes,” Gold nodded, toasting each other them with his glass. “The lovely night of the jukebox dance-a-thon.”

Anastasia giggled again, while her sister elbowed her. She tossed a dark look over her shoulder at Lacey. “We didn’t mean to interrupt,” Dru started.

“But you did,” Lacey interjected. Both turned to her, large mouths gaping in offense as Gold smirked at her over the rim of his drink. “We’re discussing business at the moment, so if you wouldn’t mind?”

“Business?” Anastasia asked, giggling again. Lacey frowned at her, wondering if she could anything without giggling or if that was just a nervous tic of some kind. “It’s Friday night!”

“Yea, Lacey,” Dru added nastily. “I didn’t think you were in that kind of business but it does explain quite a lot, come to think of it.”

Lacey had half risen from her seat, fingers curled as a vague haziness descended over her mind, a single word repeating itself on the tip of her tongue and the itchings of power collecting on her palm. Gold however lay a hand over Dru’s, causing the airhead to turn back to him before Lacey could throw a punch.

“My friend and I,” Gold began, smiling promisingly up at the two of them, “have a lot to catch up on. Perhaps another time?”

“Let me get your number,” Anastasia offered, fumbling for her phone out of back pocket. Dru followed suit, fishing hers out of her too large pocket book. Lacey sat slowly back down, curling her fingers around her chair’s edge and holding on to it tightly.

Gold shrugged sheepishly, patting his jacket breast pocket before shaking his head. “I’m afraid I don’t have my phone on me,” he apologized. “Let me give you my business card.” The two took the offered cream cards with great excitement, Anastasia even fanned herself with it as Dru read it out loud.

“R. S. Gold. Purveyor of Fine Things. How exotic.”

“Bet you have quite an eye,” Anastasia added, barely managing to swallow her giggle as Gold gave her a pointed but promising look.

“Well, we’ll leave you to it,” Dru said hesitantly, obviously hoping to be invited to stay. Anastasia had already typed his number into her cell phone and slipped his card into her pocket.

“Pleasure,” Gold nodded. Lacey, angry as she was, still got some enjoyment at watching both women’s face fall as they awkwardly retreated back to their table by the bar. By the time she returned her gaze back to her companion, he was watching her.

“What?” she snapped, feeling vaguely uneasy as she took another drink.

“Nothing,” he replied but an awkward silence filled the space between them. Lacey finished her drink quickly after that, hurrying to break the odd stillness by pouring herself another beverage.

As she cast about for something to say, she realized she had not been alone with DoDo for longer than she could remember. Neal or someone else had always been around to break the odd unease that had been growing between them as things became more and more serious. Now that another demon roamed the streets and two other witches stood on opposite sides of the spectrum, Lacey realized she had no idea what side she herself was on.

“Tell me about Jefferson,” Lacey blurted out, averting her gaze by looking at her cell phone and opening up her social media account. When silence followed this, she looked up to find Gold peering at her questioningly. “You know, Jefferson,” she repeated, miming putting a cap on her head. “Weird junkie fellow? Said he knew you.”

“Jefferson’s a business partner of mine,” Gold replied tersely. “He’s none of your concern.”

“See,” Lacey tilted her head to the side. “You say that, but he popped up unannounced in my bathroom the other day and I was nice enough to not summon you on the spot to deal with him.”

Gold chuckled darkly. “You wouldn’t have dared try the summoning spell again,” he told her point blankly. At her outrage expression, he clarified. “It does not take Bae or Jefferson to tell me that you’re petrified of magic. You should be practicing at least basic spells and yet you’re still barely able to control emotional elementals. I saw you nearly turn that woman into ashes where she stood.”

Lacey’s stomach lurched unpleasantly but she tilted her head up to meet his gaze coolly. “So, you did want to talk about more than your call to the Mayor’s office. Fine. Let’s talk about how you’re scared of the big bad demon I called to down, scared enough to run and hide the moment things got too serious.”

A nearby light bulb cracked in a large pop as the filaments burned out in an impressive electrical display. “Enough,” Gold ordered, knuckles white where they held his drink.

Lacey grinned at him as darkness descended over their table as her weeks of pent up frustration began to spill over the edges. “There’s the DoDo I remember,” she prodded. “You can hide behind that mortal facade but don’t forget, I know what’s behind it. I know you, oh Dark One. Don’t try and bullshit a bullshitter.”

“Are you okay?”

Goldie had returned, clutching another scotch to her chest which was impressively contained under a too small sweater. She was staring up at the now burned black lightbulb, obviously expecting them to move tables.

“We’re fine,” Lacey told her, lacking any social niceties. “There’s other people in this bar, you know.”

“Lacey,” Gold reprimanded her, earning him an even dirtier look as she aimed a well placed kick to his shins under the table. He deftly caught her foot in between his own feet, pinning it neatly as she turned to Goldie to swap his now empty drink for the new one. “Thank you,” he said, even as Lacey nearly upset the table trying to free her foot from his grip.

Goldie shot them both an odd look before leaving. Lacey wrenched her foot free, frowning as she had to steady her half empty pitcher from spilling all over the two of them. “Don’t,” she demanded.

“Don’t what?”

“Don’t treat me like I’m one of your students,” she growled. “You never did a thing for me, so don’t try and act like we’re friends now.”

“And what should I have done for you?” he asked, eyes narrowing. “You had every chance to make a deal.”

“For my soul,” Lacey replied. “For my soul, a witch’s soul, which you knew the instant you appeared in my apartment. Only witches can summon demons, isn’t that right? So, you knew and you kept quiet.”

“Would you have believed me?”

Lacey laughed, leaning back in her seat as she continued to laugh until tears pooled in her eyes. The table nearby glanced over but Gold glared back and they quickly looked away. “I had a demon in my kitchen, drinking my wine and watching unaired episodes of primetime television,” she finally gasped. “Of course, I would have believed you.”

“Would you have forgiven me for telling you?”

“That’s beside the point,” Lacey snapped, swallowing hard.

He stared intently at her across the round table top between them. “Wouldn't you have despised me for telling you? For ruining your life? For waking you up from the fantasy land you lived in?” Lacey opened her mouth to respond but he continued. “No, you wouldn’t. Because you did find out and you behaved exactly like I knew you would.”

“And how is that?”

“Like a trapped animal,” he told her, eyes glowing slightly yellow. Deep here in the shadows at the edge of the bar, he was letting her see through the glamour, reminding her of what he truly was. “Biting those who reach out to help, lashing out at everyone and everything, and chewing their own limb off to free themselves.”

“You don’t know me,” Lacey whispered.

It was his turn to laugh. “Of course, I know you, Lacey French. And you know me, and I will not insult you by saying otherwise. I know you to be a fool, a soft hearted thing that has learned to hide it by wrapping themselves in narcissism and hiding behind a careless facade. Others see through it as well, and when sides are drawn, you will be caught in the middle unless you make a choice.”

Lacey shook her head, feeling prickling of tears at her eyes but she steeled her jaw as best she could. “I am not weak,” she said, although she wasn’t sure if she was telling him or herself at this point. “I didn’t want this. I don’t want any of this. But you left. Just like they all do. When push comes to shove, they all leave.”

“Hi there.”

Dashing her arm over her tear filled eyes, Lacey looked up to the ceiling, trying to hide her emotions as the brunette who had joined them smiled invitingly over at Gold. “I heard you were here,” Jack flirted, leaning to prop her arms up on the table between them. “Well, I mean I knew you would be. Goldie sent out a snapchat to the entire town.”

“A what?” Gold asked, looking past Jack to where Goldie was angrily wiping a large spill off the bar. Lacey swallowed back her frustration, glancing around to realize the bar was filling up with a lot of women and some older men, all looking curiously at them in the back corner.

“Snapchat,” Jack was explaining, even going so far as to take out her own phone and moving to snap a selfie of the two of them. Lacey watched in amazement as Gold let her, remembering that photos didn’t work on demons. She watched as Jack smiled down at it, who even lifted a hand to tuck one of Gold’s hairs back into place from where she had jostled it with her own big head.

“Gold,” Lacey growled, eyeing Jack’s phone. “I thought you weren’t one for pictures.”

“Wanna see?” Jack asked, pushing it front of her. “ I think we make a cute couple,” she was telling Gold as Lacey peered into the screen. Surprisingly, Jack was right, Gold looked like Gold, although his eyes were not on the camera, but looking off camera, as if watching someone else.

“How about I let you buy me a drink?” Jack asked. “It is getting a bit crowded...we could always head back to your place?”

“Jacqueline,” Lacey said warningly. “Back off.”

“Sorry, sorry,” Jack laughed, backing up with another curious glance at Lacey. “Thought you two were just friends?”

“In the middle of something,” Gold said apologetically. “Perhaps another time, Jacqueline.”

“I’ll hold you to that,” the brunette said with a wink before she sashayed away. She settled herself at the bar, still smiling at them from the mirrors.

“Explain,” Lacey demanded, already getting the snap chat notification that Jack the Giant Slayer ;) had uploaded a new photo. She opened it, clicking it long enough to see the photo again and tossing it over at him.

“Potion instead of spell,” he said with a sigh. “Lasts longer and covers the issue of photography, mirrors are a bit trickier but it does the job as long as no one looks too carefully. Still, mortals are drawn to these kind of glamours, something about the subterfuge. Mortals always love a good lie.”

Lacey sighed, tossing her head as she threw back the last of her drink. The pitcher was half empty now, and she poured herself another one before throwing it back as well. By the time she was finished, her stomach was full and her cheeks were burning. Gold was ignoring her, toying with his own ice as he clicked it around the glass.

“Got to go,” Lacey mumbled, throwing a ten and a five down on the table between them. “Should cover the pitcher.” She didn't move for a moment, waiting for something even as she felt half the bar’s eyes fall on her. “Let me know how the meeting with the Mayor goes,” she said tonelessly.

“I will,” he replied and Lacey nodded before she turned to go.

Before she could get to the exit, three women had approached the table, one even seating herself into Lacey’s deserted chair. She nodded to herself, and slipped out the back door and headed towards home.

By the time she got home, she stopped outside Archie’s picket fence and stared into his yard. His blinds were all drawn and despite the warm light spilling through the fabric, no shadows could be seen. She wondered not for the first time what he had been up to, and if he still blamed her for everything that had happened that Halloween night. She knew Ruby did, her once best friend had gone completely silent, not even responding to the odd facebook message or tweet.

She shook off the memories and trudged upstairs to where she collapsed on her couch, staring at the blank television screen numbly. Queenie appeared, purring and nudging at her hand, sniffing her curiously as she rubbed her odd colored head along Lacey’s arm until she lifted it to pet her.

“Just you and me,” Lacey sighed, burying her face into Queenie’s head. “Us girls got to stick together.”

“I couldn’t have put it better myself.”  
  
As Queenie’s back rose, hissing and spitting as she burrowed her claws into Lacey’s denim covered lap, Lacey barely managed to keep her own mouth clamped shut as she stared up in confusion at Madam Mayor, who had not been standing there by the mantle a minute ago.

“Nice place,” the Mayor said begrudgingly. “Little on the small side but to each their own.”

She didn’t respond, simply watched as the Mayor moved about the room, lifting the odd piece of clothing before discarding it back where it had lain. By the time she had reached the kitchen sink, she turned back to her with a hearty sigh. “Well, aren’t you going to invite me to sit down?”

“I didn’t invite you in,” Lacey pointed out,

“Touchy,” the Mayor grumbled. “Here I am just trying to be nice.”

“Oh, yea?” Lacey asked, glancing down at her familiar who still fairly riled up. “I somehow doubt that.”

The Mayor raised an eyebrow, glancing at Queenie before back at Lacey. “I was told you weren’t very advanced, no protection runes, no intruder spells, basically living like a mortal.”

“Queenie’s a good judge of character,” Lacey replied. “She doesn’t seem to like you.”

“Tsk,” the Mayor scoffed, looking around again. “All familiars hate other witches. It’s a territorial thing.”

“Look,” Lacey sighed, standing and gently prying Queenie off her. “I’m tired and in no mood for whatever this is, so why don’t you just tell me what you want or leave?”

“Well, well,” the Mayor laughed, eyes brightening as she moved to meet Lacey at the couch. “I can see why he likes you.” Lacey did not need to ask who he was. They both knew. “Fine. If you’re determined to make this unpleasant, I’m here for a simple request.”

“Answer’s no,” Lacey answered bluntly, moving towards the door. “I’ll see you out.”

“Just a minute,” the Mayor called out. “Before I go… tell me, are you aware the Dark One’s in love with you?”

“He’s not,” Lacey stuttered, thinking about the way he had smiled up at the mortals, already counting their souls as he played with their emotions, letting them come to him like lemmings off a cliff. “He’s only after my soul-”

The Mayor clapped her hands together, walking up to her with a evil smile widening. “There. See? That wasn’t so hard was it?”

“Get out,” Lacey growled, pulling the door open. “Now.”

“No need to be rude,” Regina said laughingly, taking her time to cross the threshold. “I’ll see myself out.”

“See yourself to hell,” Lacey grumbled, slamming the door behind Regina. There was a peal of laughter before it suddenly ended, no sound of retreating footsteps followed. Lacey peered out into the hallway to see the Mayor had vanished from where she had stood.

Collapsing back onto the couch, Lacey groaned as she pressed her firsts into her eyes before she grabbed the closest pillow, put her face in it and screamed until she was dizzy.

“I didn’t ask for this,” she repeated to herself when she was done, lying prone on her bed and staring up at the ceiling. “I didn’t ask for any of this.”

No one responded.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Really excited to write this one as it's currently the oldest HG guest still in my inbox. This was prompted way back when Gold first appeared on the scene. 
> 
> Thanks to everyone reading, I'm excited as always to share this new chapter with you guys. I know it's more serious this "season" but Lacey is still dealing with a lot.


	29. Chapter 29

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Neal gives his dad a cell phone so they can keep in touch more often. Cue DoDo discovering the wonders of text messaging, emoticons, memes, and snapchat.

_December 18th, 2015_

The problem with immortals was that even though they didn’t age, the world around them continued to change and they by necessity were forced to keep up with the times. Some such as the more ancient demons or more reluctant half breeds tended to cling tooth and nail to the past.

To Neal’s knowledge, most apocalypse scares in the mystical community were directly related to this group and their inability to recognize and accept that time waited for no creature. Having grown up in feudal times and having lived to see the millennium, Neal obviously did not have any issue adapting to his surroundings. The very fact that he didn’t go around calling himself Baelfire was evidence of this, and seeing as how in today’s vernacular Bae meant some type of endearment for lovers, he was relieved at his foresight.

His current moniker had been chosen from one of his favorite writers, the late Neal Cassady. It was a common enough name and served him well despite his father’s protests that his true name had great power. The Dark One, for his few faults, was decent enough at adapting to the times. He was one of the more forward thinking demons, having taken to such inventions as television, telephones and electricity like a duck to water. It probably helped, Neal presumed, that his father had always been willing to make deals with the desperate. From the creative to the technical geniuses of their times, the Dark One had a knack for finding them, helping them realize their dreams and then enjoying their eventual downfalls.

However, despite Papa’s interest in technology, he still had not taken the plunge into the newest world order. Thus, Neal found himself standing on the porch of his father’s new house toting an Apple bag.

A shadow moved through the murky glass of the front door and mentally prepared himself . He hadn’t spoken much to his father as of late, the tension of Sanheim still hovering between them. However, he had managed to repair his relationship with Lacey despite the things he had said to her, most of which were inexcusable looking back. Still, she had a long way to go and if he was going to make it up to her for everything, he knew the next logical step was to try and patch things up with his father.

Which was why when a strange man answered the door, Neal found himself at a bit of a loss. Glancing back at the house number on a plaque by the front door, Neal apologized. “I’m sorry,” he said, shaking his head. “I must have the wrong house.”

The man who had opened the door was wiping flour from his hands, but instead of closing the door, he opened it wider. “Looking for Gold?” he asked, propping the door with his foot as he moved aside. Neal glanced into the interior and found it looked like a perfectly normal house if slightly expensive, not his father’s usual style.

“Yea,” Neal murmured, glancing back to him. “Is he home?”

The man shook his head, glancing back behind him. “Nah, he comes and goes. I barely see him myself most days.” He smiled with a helpless shrug. “You’re welcome to come in and wait for him.”

Neal hesitated before accepting the invitation. “I’m David Nolan, by the way,” the other man said, offering his now clean hand. Neal, recognizing the name from various stories, nodded, reassessing the man. David shook his head self consciously, a hand coming up to rub the back of his nape. “I know that look,” he sighed, shutting the door behind Neal. “Part of the reason I took Gold up on his offer of subletting his place was to avoid that look.”

“Sorry,” Neal apologized, suitably chagrined. “I’m Neal Cassidy, I’m a good friend of Lacey’s,” Neal explained, following David as he made his way to the kitchen. Neal found a large but contained mess that suggested the other man was in the middle of baking. “Cupcakes?”

“Cookies,” David groaned, gesturing towards a lumpy mass in the center of the countertop. “With the divorce, I don’t have any funds available right now. It was all Kathryn's, all I ever contributed was a windmill in the front yard and a grill on the deck. I let her keep the windmill,” he added with good humor. “For a man with no job, no savings and no prospects, I found baking to be rather soothing.”

Neal settled down at the table, accepting a beer. David took one too, and after throwing the dough into the fridge, sat down next to him. “So, you know Gold through Lacey?” David asked. “I’ve only met her a handful of times.”

Neal gave the other an a wry grin as he lifted his beer to clink against David’s. “I’m Gold’s son, actually,” he said. At David’s confused expression, he added. “I changed my name after my parents split.”

It was as true as reason as any and David seemed to accept it. “I didn’t know he had a son,” he said with a low whistle, glancing around the kitchen. “He said he just moved here.”

“He did,” Neal said, sitting back in his chair. “I lived down in New York until I had an apartment incident, now I split time between here and there. I help Granny around the Inn for free rooms and my godmother back in the city lets me crash when I’m there.”

“What do you do?” David asked.

Neal shook his head. “Trust fund.”

David nodded, looking suitably impressed. “Should have figured,” he added, gesturing at the large and grand kitchen with it’s stainless steel appliances and marble countertops. “When your Dad offered me the second floor free of rent, I thought he was kidding.”

Should have known, Neal thought darkly. “Make you a deal?” Neal asked, pulling out his cell phone which had started buzzing in his pocket.

**ARCHIE HOPPER CELL**

“Not really,” David was saying, pulling Neal’s attention back to him. “I think he just likes the company.”

Neal frowned at him. “So, what’s the catch?”

David had stopped smiling, and it was then that Neal realized that the happy go lucky routine had been largely for show. The man before him had been pumping him for information from the minute he had walked in. Not what he had been expecting from the man all of Storybrooke had deemed a lost cause.

“Okay, David,” Neal said. “Enough small talk.”

“You’re what he is?” David asked, as in the background the smell of sugar cookies grew stronger. Neal couldn’t help it. David Nolan sat across from him, dead serious as he drank a beer, while sugar cookies baked behind them. He laughed.

David stared back at him nonplussed and Neal held up a hand, trying to stem the laughter. “God, man,” he wheezed. “You don't do subtle very well, do you?”

David shrugged. “You try and live with him. Subtle doesn’t play well.”

“I hear that,” Neal agreed. Outside, the December sun was bright, it had been unseasonably warm the past few days by winter had returned with a bite in the air and snow on the ground by nightfall if the weather reports were to be believed. “Okay, well, let’s start with what you know.”

“Not much,” David replied. “Met him a while back, out with Lacey actually. She know?”

“She’s the reason we’re here,” Neal explained, “but that’s her business.”

David nodded. “That’s fair enough. Well, I thought I saw something that night in the store...a reflection that didn’t match the man in front of me.” Neal made a noncommittal noise, recognizing what must have been a basic cloaking spell. “I headed home, only to turn around and find Lacey waltzing down the street with some guy in full monster mood.”

“You didn’t say anything to anyone?” Neal asked in disbelief. “Most people go running to the internet.”

“I was going through a lot,” David sighed. “I figured trick of the light, trick of my mind, whatever. Then, I ran into him one night, we got drinks-”

“You went drinking with my father?” Neal interrupted, putting down his now empty bottle. “Is that when you made a deal?”

“You keep asking about deals,” David said, standing up and collecting the two empty bottles. He moved to check the oven, grabbing a pot holder as he pulled the door open to retrieve the cookies. “What’s that about?”

“Dad’s a demon,” Neal sighed, kicking back. “Can I have one of those?”

“Jesus,” David exclaimed, standing at the open oven, cookie tray in hand. Neal grinned, imagining the snapchat story he could send to Lacey of this exact moment. All american boy in utter astonishment, wearing a henley and worn jeans, with a flowery oven mitt and a tray of freshly baked sugar cookies. David, sit the tray down, closing the oven door before leaning against it and repeating. “Jesus.”

“Was half breed, according to Papa,” Neal added, “but he likes to piss of the Church. Probably was mortal, or the son of god, or what not. But don’t bring it up in front of him. He never shuts up.” David nodded absently as Neal looked over to the fridge. “Want another beer?”

“I need one,” David corrected, mentally snapping back into place. He took the oven mitt off, turned the oven off and collected the requested beer. “Feel free,” he added, waving to a nearby tin of cookies on the counter. “I don't even know who I’m making them for really.”

“Something to do,” Neal said. “I can understand that.” He had spent most of his second century learning how to fight. Being a halfbreed meant you were ageless, not immortal. Plus, it had kept the ennui at bay. “Anyways, demons trade souls for power. He gives you your heart desire’s, he gets your soul when your time comes.”

“He did try that I think,” David pondered, twisting his cap off. “I think I was too drunk to talk about much other than my … issues.”

Neal took the hint and skirted the topic. “So, okay then. You still have a soul, don't lose it.”

“I don’t plan on it,” David said with a whistle. “Jesus. A demon? That explains the scaly bit, though I haven’t seen it lately. He even took a picture- I saw it on a someone's snapchat feed the other night.”

Neal made a mental note to ask Lacey about this supposed feed. “He’s probably moved over to the potions, they cover reflections and photography. Bit more time consuming but he’s making a go of it, it seems.”

“Of what?”

“Of whatever long con he’s playing,” Neal replied. “I don’t know what exactly but I have to admit, you’re the first mortal he’s invited to live with him.”

“If you don’t mind me asking…” David winced and Neal laughed, knowing the unspoken question.

“I’m a half breed. My mother was a witch, died when I was born.”

“So, you have powers too?”

Neal stood, moving towards the offered cookies. His origin story was nothing exciting but mortals always liked to hear it. He expected that’s why comics were so popular these days. “Half breeds can go a lot of ways. If they accept their demon heritage, they can become a demon although they’ll never be as powerful as full blooded demons. Or, they can walk away from magic and simply exist.”

“Which is what you did,” David finished.

Neal toasted him with a cookie before taking a large bite of it. “Hey man, these aren’t bad,” he said through a mouthful of crumbs, flashing the chef a thumbs up. “Good job.”

“He likes them too,” David said with a grin. “Well, thanks for clarifying all that. I mean it makes zero sense if you think about it, but it explains a lot.”

“Oh one more thing,” Neal continued, swallowing down a mouthful of cookie. “If anyone finds out, you’re toast. There’s rules, regulations, you know, red tape. As a mortal knowing this without any ties to the other parties, you’d be killed to protect the overall hierarchy.”

Before David could respond, the sound of someone else sighing announced the owner of the house had returned. “Why are you scaring my house guest, Baelfire?”

After two beers and four cookies, Neal was surprised to find he was actually pleased to see his father. “Hey!” he said, handing him a half eaten cookie. “I got something for you.”

“David,” Papa said as he moved to the counter. “Close your mouth. You look like a fish.”

“But he-”

Neal recovered the bag with the apple icon, pulling it out from under the kitchen table to present it to his nonplussed father.

“What is it?” The Dark One asked dryly, taking it gingerly from him.

“Figured it was about time you got a cell phone,” Neal explained, taking the box his father had unearthed from the bag. Gold let him, knowing his son’s perchance for new things. “I got everything programmed for you, even contacts.”

“If I need to contact anyone, I have a cauldron and a summoning spell,” he reminded his son. “Works just fine.”

“Well, Lacey mentioned you didn’t have a phone and if you’re going to play at human, you need one. It’s as essential as proper form of identification.”

“Honestly, Bae,” Gold grumbled. “There’s no reason the Dark One needs a cell phone-”

“Uh, you can watch television on there,” David suggested, having recovered from his brief bout of terror. “Movies, music, internet- it’s all there.”

Gold sighed. “I know how a cell phone works. I just don’t need one.”

“Well, I know it would make Lacey feel better if she could reach you. Just in case.”

Gold shook his head, but slipped the device in his pocket. “Fine. But tell that little witch this doesn’t change anything.”

“Witch?” David piped up, swiveling large eyes to Neal. “Lacey’s a witch?”

“So is the Mayor,” Gold informed him, taking another cookie from the tin. “So's one of the new nuns at the covent.”

“Wow,” David breathed. “A demon, three witches and a half breed.”

“Two demons actually,” Gold corrected. “I’m not exactly sure what the other one's up to at the moment.”

“I think…I think I’m going to go lie down,” David announced, standing from the table. “Maybe call my mom.”

“Don’t tell her about the demons,” Gold called after him, turning to favor his son with a sly wink as his house guest disappeared from sight.

“You adopted a mortal?” Neal asked, throwing away the beer bottles still on the table. “Lacey’s going to have a field day, you know.”

“She adopted an entire city of them,” his father replied tersely. “Besides I’m hardly doing much other than amusing myself.”

Neal didn’t reply to that, other than a noncommittal shrug. “I should get going,” he said, glancing at the clock on the stove. “I have to head back to New York tomorrow.”

“Cruella pulling the leash tight?”

“Papa,” Neal grunted. “Auntie Cruella is having people over for the holidays and since you don’t believe in Christmas…”

“I have plans anyways,” his father replied vaguely as he pulled his new phone out of his pocket. “Does this have angry birds?”

“How do you know about Angry Birds?” Neal laughed, shrugging his coat back on.

“Cruella’s a fan,” Gold sighed. “Played all the way through lunch this year. I’d like to see if I can beat her high score, just for fun.”

Neal shook his head.”Have David help you download it. My number’s in there under Neal.”

“Fine, Bae,” his father mumbled, waving him away. “Is this Snapchat? I’ve heard about this. I’m very popular on it apparently…”

With that, Neal let himself out, calling out a goodbye to David who hollered one back from upstairs. He hadn’t gotten far when he heard his own phone ding. Remembering he needed to call Archie back, he checked it to see Lacey had already sent him three messages and they kept coming.

_did you give my phone # out to someone?_

_A 666 number?_

_DID U GIVE yoUR FATHER A CELL PHONE?_

_I’m going to find you, Baelfire. I’m going to find you and you are going to pay for this_

_HE WON’T STOP SENDING GIFS. WHO TAUGHT HIM ABOUT GIFS NEAL._

_CALL ME IMMEDIATELY BAELFIRE. HE FOUND SOCIAL MEDIA. I REPEAT HE FOUND SOCIAL MDIA._

The enclosed screen grab of her phone, lit up like a christmas tree with sixteen unread messages and countless snapchat, instagram and twitter notifications, made Neal wince as he glanced back down the street at the salmon house he could still faintly see. Then, he turned his phone off, and made his way back to Granny’s.

He’d apologize when he was safely back in New York.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey crazy kids! Bit of a lighter chapter with a small hint of Sheep Boys because so many of you were excited to hear David had become the House Guest in the last chapter. Thank you for everyone who reviewed, I hope you guys enjoy this chapter even if Lacey only got a brief cameo towards the end.
> 
> Also, I didn't think about this, but a lot of people ask great questions in the comment section, if you ever are curious, I recommend perusing that section. Unless you guys want me to start answering questions in this section?? Let me know.


	30. Chapter 30

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sweethearted Snafu had a birthday and I wanted to give her something. She finally asked: Does Lacey miss DoDo? And since it's Christmas...

_December 24th, 2015_

In a small house off West Elm Avenue, the one with the SOLD sign on the lawn, a light in the attic shone like a singular star on the otherwise darkened street. A few houses had wreaths on the door but the christmas lights had all blinked off by this hour. Only Lacey French remained awake in the early hours of Christmas morning, sitting in the cold attic surrounded by old boxes and cobwebs.

Glancing at her silent phone, Lacey returned her attention to the closest box, combing through some old clothes most of which were moth eaten and smelled of mildew. Still, like all the other boxes, Lacey went painstakingly through each, searching for memories.

Behind her, fourteen boxes of various items from her own childhood were piled for her to take to the donation center in the morning. Another six boxes were waiting for Moe to awaken and bring out to the curb for trash day and two stood on either side of Lacey, the words STORYBROOKE written on them.

The sun would rise in less than a few hours but when Lacey finished with this box, she nudged it to the trash pile before summoning over the next box. She was getting better at it, this one slid silently to her from the back corner without her having to strain. Her heat spell was working well now too, and she sat crossed legged in her bare feet on Christmas Day in New England without fear of frostbite.

Practice made perfect, Mal had reminded her the last time they had talked. Lacey had alerted her to DoDo’s current nesting phrase, asking for advice and receiving that idiom in response. For whatever reason, as much as Mal disliked the Dark One, she didn’t seem too worried about his obsession with Storybrooke. Mal had also been less than forthcoming about Mayor Mills’ little visit, only offering Lacey the same advice. “Practice makes perfect.”

As much as she resisted her magic at home, here, surrounded by her mother’s things, Lacey felt as if she owed her mother at least this small effort. She had hoped to find something buried in her mother’s things but this latest box proved to just be old romance novels, a few biographies and a wedding album. She was losing steam.

Still, anything was better than laying wide awake staring at the ceiling in her childhood twin bed, the virginal white and cream bedspread covering floral patterned sheets. This entire trip home for Christmas had reminded her vividly of why she had stayed away. She loved her father, she did despite everything, but she still hated being home.

It was the way her father repeated the same thing ad nauseum, telling her the same story three times in an afternoon or arguing with her over what the neighbor’s old cat was called. It was the odd feeling in her mostly emptied out bedroom, her middle school yearbook photo the only thing hanging on the wall while the twin bed and a small dresser set was the only remaining furniture.

Every corner of the house was a reminder of the good times and the bad, and Lacey had finally retreated to the attic, knowing her father’s arthritis would prevent him from spending too much time up here in this cold. She had been right, he had tried to stay up with her, even making weak jokes about Santa Claus coming and catching her up and about. Lacey had ignored them, helping clear out old holiday decorations, camping equipment from the late seventies and various other knick knacks until he had announced he was going to bed.

He had shuffled off and would probably be awake soon after the sun rose, years of early shifts at the factory making him an early bird. Another reason she stayed up so late. She could sleep in until at least noon, and he wouldn’t bother her, easily postponing the awkward Christmas morning exchange that he had obviously been envisioning.

Lacey, knowing all of this, had been moody and unpleasant all day. His attempt to go out to eat had been met with blank stares and a counter offer to order in a pizza. When he suggested to watch _It’s a Wonderful Life_ , she had curtly suggested that it wasn’t a wonderful life at all, and he of all people ought to know that.

All in all, Lacey was looking forward to finishing helping him pack and get back home by Sunday. Although returning to her empty flat in the condemned building was not appealing, she could sulk alone there, with no one asking her what was wrong and accusing her of hating it there. Family, Lacey knew, was one of the most frustrating catch-22’s in this world. Love and loathing were remarkably easy to mistake.

Finishing flipping through the wedding album, Lacey put the book in the keep pile for Moe, moving the books to the donation pile. There was two more boxes left, and Lacey made a mental pull on both of them, wanting to wrap this up and get to bed. Her eyes were heavy and dry and she had bitten back two yawns in the last five minutes.

Unfortunately, the boxes proved stubborn, shaking slightly before settling right back into place. Grumbling, Lacey made it to her feet as she headed over to the far side of the attic to manually drag them under the lone attic light. She was tired, meaning her magic was weakening as well. She focused her attention on strengthening the warmth spell, sighing in satisfaction as her fingertips glowed bright and another blanket of warmth descended around her shoulders. Grabbing the closest one, she hauled it back towards the spot she had been sitting before collapsing back onto the floor.

This one was taped shut, probably one of the first ones her father had packed after the funeral when he had still been trying to preserve Colette’s things. Lacey glanced around for the scissors, which had been sitting right next to her, but found them gone. Groaning, her shoulders slumping down, she spared a glance up as if for assistance from some unseen entity in the eaves before sighing. “Give them back.”

The box before her suddenly split open, as if by magic.

Well, it was magic actually, and the performer of this act materialized on the other side of the box, sitting on top of the other unopened one and frowning at her. “How’d you know?” he grumbled, spinning the scissors recklessly round and round his finger.

“I felt you,” Lacey replied, arms coming up to drape over the box. She felt protective of her mother’s things, and was not sure she wanted to open this with DoDo watching. “What are you doing here, DoDo?”

Her old roommate shrugged. “It’s Christmas,” he answered as if that was a perfectly acceptable one. “A time of celebration and good cheer.”

“If you remember, I already know you gave Dickens the idea for Christmas Carol in exchange for his soul, so the next useless platitude that comes out of your mouth, I’m sewing it shut.”

“My, my,” DoDo remarked, propping his elbows on his knees. “Neal did warn me you were a bit of a Scrooge.”

Lacey ignored him, double checking the time on her phone. It was nearly five in the morning and she stifled a yawn as she clicked the screen back into sleep mode. The Dark One stayed perfectly immobile, watching her through his odd golden eyes.

“What’s all that for?” he inquired, indicating the trash pile behind her. “And that?” he added, waving towards the keep pile.

“Keep,” Lacey replied, pointing to the correct piles, “and throw out.”

“Anything interesting?”

Lacey scoffed, tossing a wadded up ball of tissue paper at his head. He easily vanished it before it even reached him. “That why you’re here?” Lacey asked. “To see what if I found anything witchy?”

“What’s wrong with that?” he replied defensively. “You were the one that made it clear that you wanted nothing to do with me. Excuse me if I show a slight interest in the creature that summoned me to this dreadful plane.”

“Save it,” Lacey said, leaning back on her elbows. “I’ve heard all this. You can to back to your little hell realm whenever you want.”

“Wrong,” he sighed, blowing a raspberry at her. Lacey blinked, unused to this behavior. It was odd seeing him revert to these shenanigans, she hadn’t seen him behave like this since…

“You’re mad at me,” Lacey realized as light bulb clicked on in her head. “That’s why you disappeared.”

“You told me to leave,” he reminded her with a haughty sniff, “and I do not get mad. You made it clear you were no longer interested in our current arrangement and so I took my leave of you and your shack.”

Lacey shook her head, chuckling in disbelief as she looked back up at the light dangling above her. “Wow,” she mumbled. “You’re unbelievable.”

“True, but I fail to see what that has to do with anything.”

All this time, she had been confused. Over analyzing everything, wondering if she had done something or debating if the book was as black and white as it seemed to be when it discussed demons. She had been wavering in no man’s land for months, all because she hadn’t understood why he had left like that.

“My mother left me,” Lacey found herself saying, nudging the box between them with her knee.

“She died,” DoDo corrected. “People tend to do that.”

“She left,” Lacey repeated. “She should have fought, but she died before she even got to the hospital. Just gave up and left me.”

He didn’t respond to this, but his eyes were attentive.

“Then I find out she was a witch,” Lacey continued, sitting back upright. She reached into one of the boxes she had labeled Storybrooke, drawing out a rag doll that had seen better days. “She had power and she didn’t even use it to save herself. She didn’t use it stay with me. And then, I find out I have this power and you…”

Lacey swallowed, blinking back up at the light. She didn’t know why she was telling him this, why she was getting teary eyed but it was Christmas morning and she found she could no more hold back this storm than she could fly.

Perhaps she could fly, she thought giddily as she tried to think of her next sentence but that was another matter.

“You left.”

“I thought that was what you wanted,” he said, not moving from his perch on the box.

“I needed some time,” Lacey admitted. “I just found out I was a witch, that I had summoned another demon into the world and somehow managed to put my friends into danger. Again.”

He went to defend himself but she cut him off, too caught up in the words that had been left unsaid for far too long.

“You lied to me. Kept things from me and were in the process of trying to broker my soul, ensuring this world’s destruction. Of course I told you to leave.”

“And I did,” he grumbled, splaying his hands out before him. “I went back to my own realm, washed my hands of you and the entire backwater hole you call a town.”

Lacey felt her cheeks tighten and warm, anger flooding her as her tears began to slow. “Then, you should have stayed there,” she snapped. “I was doing just fine without you.”

And she had been. She had locked herself in her flat with her wine and her newfound knowledge and she had been fine. Alone. But fine.

It hadn't been until his damn son had come to make amends that she had even spoken to another soul since that fateful night. She had ordered take out online, getting them to leave it at the door and leave before she would unchain the damn thing to retrieve the take out bags. If she had been actually paying for it, she would have probably kept all of Storybrooke’s pizza joints in business for the whole year.

“That’s not what I heard,” he snarled back. His own carefree demeanor was fraying around the edges, as he got caught up in this long overdue conversation.

“What did you hear?” she demanded, moving to her knees so she could look him in the eye.

“You and your self loathing,” he mocked. “Too concerned with yourself to worry about the big picture-”

“Which is?”

“You, inept as you are, still managed to help bridge the worlds for one of the most vile demons in this world or the next to come across. You freed him from whatever realm he had been trapped in, and you go about your life as if you have no idea-”

“That’s just it! I don’t!” Lacey yelled, slamming a fist on the box before her. She heard something below, and quieted, not wanting to wake her father. “I don’t have any idea because you and Neal and even Mal and that fucking bitch of a Mayor all act like I’m playing coy. I’m not,” she hissed. “I’m in the fucking goddamn dark and I’m drowning over here.”

They were both breathing heavily, glaring at each other over a box of her mother’s old things on Christmas morning. As the realization of it all set in, Lacey let out a weak laugh and closed her eyes to sink back on her heels.

“If you had told me last year,” she said quietly. “What my life was going to become, I would have never even bothered to listen.”

“Maybe that’s why no one has told you anything,” DoDo sighed. He looked tired in the lone light of the bare bulb hanging overhead and the distance between them, which was no more than a foot but seemed like a canyon. Lacey glanced down at her hand, laid protectively over the box before her.

“Do you think she knew?”

He knew what she meant. He shrugged, but did not make a move to leave. Silently, Lacey made her decision, opening the flaps to stare down at the contents of the box.

Photos.

Photos of every size and shape. Some were polaroids, some were sepia colored, some were black and white and crumbling at the edge when she touched them, but the ones on top, the ones bundled together with ribbon were all of a child, a girl of various ages who smiled as if the entire world was one big, wonderful game.

She didn’t say anything as she flipped through them, and DoDo didn’t say anything either. Another hour passed, with Lacey going through the hundreds of photos, handing some over mutely to her companion who gazed at them before handing them back.

It appeared Colette had known she was a witch. Her face, familiar and yet so alien to Lacey, smiled at the camera in the early eighties, holding Lacey’s hand at a bus stop. Her youthful face half covered in a hat in the seventies, waving a ring towards the camera. Then, again, she posed for a sepia print, smiling Lacey’s exact smile at the unseen cameraman. The ancient black and white ones were cloudy and half ruined with age, and again a woman smiled at the camera, but her hair looked lighter and she wore heavy layers of clothes, making her look larger, rounder.

At the bottom, there was a rolled up sketch of a dark haired woman, stylized and serious. She had a familiar pendant around her throat, half drawn in and shaded as if the artist had not wanted to include it but had felt compelled to.

“Papa always said the French women took after each other,” Lacey told DoDo, the first words in an hour. “Guess she told him this was her mother, and grandmother and so on and so forth.”

“Mortals believe easily,” was his only response as he handed her back the last sepia colored one, greening with age. “You favor her.”

Lacey nodded. “It’s why Papa named me Belle. He used to her call her his beauty,” she smiled, remembering how he would put on a terrible french accent and run after her mother in the kitchen, before rounding on her and sweeping her into his arms to be covered with kisses.

“When she died, every time he said my name...he winced,” Lacey recalled. “So, I changed it. Changed myself, changed everything. It didn’t help. Nothing did.”

She grabbed a pen, writing STORYBROOKE on the photo box before folding it closed and sliding it to her other side. “Well, enough of that. Time for the last box.”

Before she could swat him off his perch, DoDo clicked his fingers and every box in the attic disappeared from around them, including the one that had been underneath him. “It’s back at your place,” he said as he dusted himself off. “You’re half asleep as is.”

“You’re the one always saying all magic comes with a price,” Lacey reminded him, lifting her hand up so he could pull her off the floor. He did so easily, wrapping his scaled fingers around her wrist and pulling her up to stand beside. It was as if they had not been fighting an hour ago, as if he had never left. As if these brief moments where they treated each other as if they were normal roommates, or old friends, had never stopped.

“Consider it a Christmas present,” he replied. “Speaking of which, I did want to stop by and surprise Baelfire in New York, I think a quarter to six sounds like an excellent time to wake up, don’t you?”

Lacey smiled, crossing her arms over her chest as she shook her head at him. “Don’t take this the wrong way,” she said, “but I missed you.”

He blinked at her, opening his mouth as if to reply but nothing came out. Lacey nodded, turning to head back down the stairs.

“You’re warming spell is adequate,” he called out as she turned to shimmy down the ladder. “The summoning one was decent, if a little jerry rigged. You need to focus on your initial need before you can summon something. Laziness is not a strong motivator.”

Lacey yawned, her face cracking near in two as her jaw nearly detached. “I don’t know about that,” she mumbled at him as she lowered herself down. “I remember someone conjuring up a new television set when they couldn’t find the remote.”

Outside, the sun peeked over the horizon in a nearby field, coloring the sky as the storm clouds headed to the west. The attic light on West Elm flickered off and all was silent.

All was right.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew. I know we've been in serious mode lately as Lacey works through her issues and last chapter was a bit of a break from that, but I think the two have made strides here and I'm looking forward to getting back to Storybrooke to see where it goes from there. 
> 
> Merry Christmas, Happy Holidays and thanks to you all for reading and reviewing.


	31. Chapter 31

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Cold  
> (This chapter is for the dearest darling Nia-Nita because she knows why)

_January 3rd, 2016_

Three days into the new year, and Lacey already had broken every single one of her resolutions.

“It’s not technically my fault,” she grumbled as she surveyed the mess that was her studio apartment. It was a pig sty, with empty beer bottles littering every surface, wine glasses stacked in the sink and an empty handle of vodka sticking out of the trash. Queenie looked up at her askance, but wisely did not make a comment.

DoDo, on the other hand, had no such qualms.

“I’ve seen less debauchery in St. Petersburg,” he drawled, draping himself on the back of the couch. “Although I dare say you probably would have fit in Alexandra’s crowd, you have the taste for the dramatic.”

Dropping her hand, the one currently outstretched towards the sink, Lacey fixed him with a glare. He returned her glare with a frown, shooing her back around. “Concentrate!” he urged.

“If you shut up, I could,” Lacey shot back. Still, she turned back to the mess of glass stained with lipstick, red wine and glitter as she tried to recall how exactly she had broken her first resolution: Drink Less.

Her small intimate belated birthday dinner had somehow grown from Ariel and Eric, who had run into Mary Margaret and invited her. Mary Margaret had asked Lacey if she minded if she brought along a date, a date which had turned out to none other than David Nolan. Well, five was never Lacey’s favorite number. Since Neal had decided to stay in New York for the rest of the month, she had invited Leroy, who had brought his entire kickball team of six very single and very awkward guys.

This new group had unbalanced the sexes, and Lacey had ended up inviting a few more people she knew from the bar most of which brought their own friends and somehow- Lacey had ended up hosting an entire building’s worth of people out of her studio apartment.

It had been the most instagrammed, snapchatted New Year’s event in Storybrooke, only ending when Sheriff Humbert had showed up around five in the morning, less than thrilled to be the bearer of bad news. Lacey didn’t remember a lot, but she hadn’t missed the pale, freckled face staring out the window of the house behind Sheriff Humbert.

A twinkle of breaking glass jarred her back to reality as every single wine glass in the sink suddenly cracked clean in half. Behind her DoDo snorted, and she threw her own arms down in frustration. “This is never going to work!”

“You weren’t concentrating!” DoDo critiqued, standing as she brushed past him.

“I was too!” she exclaimed, flopping down onto her bed. “I focused on my goal, I desired for the glasses to be clean, and then I extended my will as I recanted the cleaning charm- and as usual, all that got me was a headache and a new mess to clean!”

Queenie hopped up the bed next to her, headbutting her cheek until Lacey grudgingly sat upright. DoDo remained by the kitchen table, staring out the window with a furrowed brow.

“What?” Lacey asked. His eyes were tracking something on the lawn below. “Is that asshat neighbor of mine walking Pongo? Cause I have some choice words to say to him about calling the fucking cops on me the other night.”

“No, not Master Hopper,” DoDo replied distractedly.

Lacey stood, padding over to join him. Before she could peer out the window, he swiveled to intercept her. He threw out a dark ball of noxious smelling smoke that she instinctively blocked but failed to properly parry. DoDo giggled, recasting the small spell before she could refocus. Caught mid breath with a air full of putrid smoke, Lacey coughed violently, reaching out a hand to smack him as he giggled over her hacking.

“Constant vigilance!” he barked and Lacey, eyes watering, glared at him.

“You stole that from Rowling,” she reminded him as she glanced outside. It was a normal morning, not yet noon and the weather outside was sunny but chilly. As badly as she wanted to take a break, there was still a lot to do.

“How do you know she didn’t borrow it from me?” DoDo demanded and Lacey turned back to argue with him some more on pop culture, forgetting all about the world outside.

\--

Later that afternoon, Lacey was seated at the kitchen table, head in her arms. DoDo, perched on a nearby counter, was stroking a purring Queenie as he drummed his heels into the cabinets.

“Shut up, shut up, shut up,” Lacey groaned, without removing her head from the table surface.

“Not until you deal with the broken glass in the sink,” he replied in growing exasperation. “I would like nothing more than to be done here too, I’m missing my soaps.”

“Then, go!” Lacey moaned. “If I do another spell, I’ll have to sleep for a week.”

“All magic-”

Lacey slumped backwards in her chair, saying it along with him. “Comes with a price- I know, I know. God, if I never have to hear that again, it’ll be too soon.”

“You wouldn’t have to if you would learn it. The First Tenet of Magic states what?”

“No,” Lacey protested. “Not another lesson on magical infrastructure- I can’t-”

The nose of his heels against the cabinet doors grew louder. Queenie arched her back in distaste, slinking away from the two of them to disappear under the bed. Lacey struggled to concentrate, trying to recall what the damn guide had said. She had been four or five glasses deep when she had read this particular wordy section.

“Something about….magic uses...energy?”

DoDo sighed, but the kicking mercifully ceased. Lacey was used to hangovers, but the magical induced ones were always accompanied by a terrible migraine. A fact DoDo had used to his shameless advantage all day.

“And?”

“The book used a weird term for it- but it’s like chakras,” Lacey said, struggling to put the concept into terms. “A witch can draw on one of her seven centers, using her energy and transforming into magic.”

“Close enough,” DoDo acquiced. “As you learn to use your abilities, you burn through that energy. You’ve been tapping into it, unwittingly, for years which has kept them open. Now, however, you have to keep exercising them.”

“Okay, I got all that. Witches can harness their inherent magical energy,” Lacey remembered, trying to change the subject away from the rest of her woeful ignorance on her own abilities. “I’m guessing that’s why demons need souls? They can’t harness their own?”

DoDo scoffed at her, but considered the question. Lacey did not risk a glance at the broken glass in the sink and the surrounding counter. The rest of the apartment was sparkling, her cleansing charm vastly approved as well as the overall sanitation of her apartment. She hadn’t even know her bathroom tile had originally been a pale pink.

“A soul has it’s own magic,” he finally answered. “Each one vastly different in scale and in scope. One soul can power one big spell or five small spells. Another can power a demon’s magic for years, allowing him to remain in the netherrealm. Many demons prefer this method, although you do hear of many of the more petty ones possessing bodies in an effort to burn through a soul instead of dealing for it.”

“Gross,” Lacey grumbled.

“The trick,” Dodo said gleefully. “Is to find the soul that can last through your next deal entirely, stock up so to speak.”

“Jesus, DoDo,” Lacey recoiled, twitching her arching shoulder. “Before I knew I was a guardian of the veil, I hated your damn deal stories. Now, I’m in the position to stop you, so maybe cool it on the lost souls.”

He laughed, hopping down from the counter. “You are no more capable of stopping me than you were when you thought you were human. Now, fix the glass.”

Lacey begrudgingly stood, extending a slightly shaking hand toward the sink. DoDo moved behind her, and she bit her lip as she tried to focus on what she wanted the glass to do. Fixing was definitely harder than cleansing, and she had barely been able to manage that.

“Concentrate,” she heard DoDo say from behind her.

“I’m trying!” She twisted to snap at him, but a hand landed on the small of her back, immobilizing her. She twitched, but it pressed harder.

“Ground yourself,” he told her, as he raised his other arm to support her shaking one. “Focus here, find your root.”

Lacey nodded, trying to concentrate on her own body instead of the hand pressing into her spine or the one cradling her elbow. His face was close enough that she could feel his breath on the exposed nape of her neck. She wiggled a bit, and he growled as his grip tightened on her elbow.

“You’re easily distracted,” he said. “Block everything out for the moment, focus on the thing at hand and want it.”

“I do want it,” Lacey complained, but she did not drop her arm or step away. Instead, she fixed her attention on the way her breathing seemed to slow, matching the breaths of the demon behind her, feeling the heat of him through the back of her sweater.

“You want to be done,” he corrected. “You want to be at a bar, half drunk on wine and the meaningless attentions of others.”

“Screw you,” Lacey growled, jerking her arm down to attempt to elbow him. He kept her arm straight, pressing closer against her until his entire front was fitted against her back. She could feel the strings of his vest pressing through the thick knit.

“It’s not a bad thing,” he told her. “Wanting. You’ve been using it for years, getting what you want without being the wiser as to how you were doing it.”

Lacey swallowed, remembering Mal’s exasperation in the Salem diner. Her arm began to ache, even supported by DoDo’s grip. With one last stab, she thought the words to fix, mend, heal, correct- just as DoDo’s other hand, came around her front to press gently into her lower abdomen, just two inches below her navel.

Gasping, Lacey pitched forward, and a brief, sudden, desperate want filled her before it disappeared as his hands dropped away from her.

“What the absolute fuck!” she demanded, whirling around on him. “Do not poke me!”

He stood before her, grinning at something behind her. At a loss, Lacey turned to find the sink was filled with once more whole glasses, albeit still dirty. She stared at them, a hand drifting down to cover the spot he had pressed, and felt it hot to the touch.

“That’s all for today,” Dodo said from behind her. “I suggest a glass of something strong before retiring. You’ll most likely feel like hell in the morning.”

“How did you-?”

Lacey found no answer, when she turned back around he had gone.

\--

Clutching her jacket closer around her, Lacey hurried through the arctic temperatures towards the main part of town, the lights and noise drawing her through the dark night. She had taken a two hour nap, only to wake up starving and with an empty fridge. The one downside to losing her demonic roommate had been the loss of free takeout from all over the world.

Heading towards the Rabbit Hole, Lacey barely noticed when her feet changed direction until she looked up to find herself in front of the classier wine bar she had stopped at a few weeks ago with Gold. Puzzled, she glanced back down the street, wondering how exactly she had wound up at the Ballroom Bar.

“Finally.”

Mayor Regina Mills approached the door, twisting her fingers for it to pull open enough for her to grasp the handle with ease. The warmth of the bar trickled outside, the soft piano music and the hum of voices reaching out to where Lacey stood on the edge of the street. She did not need further explanation.

Without bothering with a response, Lacey pushed ahead of the Mayor, disappearing inside to select a booth by the front window. Shedding her jacket, gloves and hat, she sat down as the Mayor joined her. With ease, Mayor Mills caught a waiter’s attention and lifted a gloved finger. The visual request seemingly understood, their server disappeared towards the bar.

“Tonight seems a good syrah evening,” she commented to herself, settling down primly. “You’ll love this vintage, I keep a case on hand here.”

Lacey regarded her across the table. “Do you not like to drink alone or did you have another reason for inviting me here?”

The Mayor threw her a disappointed look. “I didn’t invite you,” she remarked drily. “I summoned you here. Much like you keep summoning demons to my town.”

Before Lacey could reply, the server appeared at their side. Smoothly, he deposited a uncorked bottle, two glasses and disappeared as silently as he had arrived. When Lacey turned back to face her companion, she found her glass filled. The Mayor lifted hers up as in a mocking toast, before raising the garnet liquid to her own dark red stained lips.

“Look, Madame Mayor-”

“Regina,” she corrected with a quirk of her lips. “Witches must stick together.”

“Regina,” Lacey growled, “I don’t appreciate being conned, manipulated or used. So, cut the bullshit and tell me what you want this time.”

“Mal asked me to check in on you,” Regina sighed. She seemingly lost interest in Lacey, turning to survey the bar. “Thinks you might have bitten off a little more than you can chew.”

“I can handle myself,” Lacey said saltily. “I’ve managed all right the past twenty odd years after all.”

“Thirty-one,” Regina replied without even turning back to her. “I believe you just had a birthday last month. Don’t lie about your age. You’re not very good at it.”

Bristling at this point, Lacey once more ignored her second new year’s resolution to stop swearing. “Look,” she seethed, “I’m not sure where you get off talking down to me like I’m some goddamn kid-”

“You are a kid,” Regina interrupted.

“Excuse me?”

Lacey felt a vein start to throb in her head, fingers curling around the stem of her wine glass as she began to see a very clear picture upending it over Regina’s head. The witch across from her seemed to know it too, cutting her eyes back to her with a clear warning.

“Any witch under seventy five is a child, a novice, a speck on the radar,” Regina said curtly. “Believe me, you don’t begin to live until you’re celebrated a century.”

Unsure how to respond to this admission of age, power and disregard, Lacey sought solace in the bottom of her glass. However, this also presented the issue of how to refill her cup. When she looked back up, Regina was grinning at her over the rim of her own glass.

“Trouble?” Regina drawled, cocking her head to the side.

“Not at all,” Lacey said through gritted teeth. Focusing on the bottle, Lacey decided to attempt a summoning spell, after all, she just needed to summon the wine from the bottle to her glass. Ignoring Regina’s stare, she pressed her hand into the spot DoDo had touched earlier, remembering the heat, the want- and failing to do anything more than look mildly constipated.

A low throaty chuckle emanated from the other side of the table. “Pathetic,” Regina commented. “I do wonder why Mal even bothers with you, barely a scrap of talent or power underneath all that makeup.”

Her third and last new year resolution frayed and then snapped. Before Regina could react, Lacey had stood up and thrown her entire glass of wine in her face. Grabbing her things, she strode to the door, ignoring the shrill cries of the furious wine soaked bitch and disappeared into the night.

“Something the matter?”

As DoDo fell in step beside her, Lacey continued clicking along the street. “She’s vile,” Lacey snarled. “Summoning me like a dog, showing off her little tricks all the while knowing I couldn’t!”

“Course you can.”

Lacey shook her head furiously, catching the reflection of the two of them in a nearby blackened store window. He wore his true face, but it was bundled under a fur stole of some kind. He could have passed for normal if it wasn’t for those eerily glowing eyes of his.

“Why the hell doesn’t she just leave me alone if I’m such an embarrassment to witches?” Lacey demanded. Her breath made hot clouds in the air, disappearing upwards as she strode forward.

“She’s jealous.”

Lacey laughed humorlessly. “Yea, sure, the Mayor of Storybrooke is jealous of little ole me. I can’t even clean my apartment without needing to nap for Christ sakes. God, it was worth it though, just for that look on her face!”

“What was?”

Lacey couldn’t help but shoot him a grin as they neared the Rabbit Hole. “I threw my wine into her face, ruined her blouse hopefully.”

DoDo looked askance at her. “How did you manage that?”

She frowned at him. “Don’t be slow, I just told you-”

She stumbled to a stop as realization finally hit.

“I...I did it,” she whispered to herself. “Oh, my god I did it!”

“A transporting spell,” DoDo replied. “Beginner stuff but impressive considering you didn’t know the incarnations.”

“I wanted it!” Lacey laughed, grabbing for his hands and spinning the two of them into a large circle. “I wanted to knock her down a peg, see the look on her face with wine dripping down her cheeks! And I did it!”

She laughed louder, ignoring DoDo’s protests as she spun them around and around until she was too dizzy to stand. Sinking down onto a nearby bus bench, Lacey tilted her head to stare at the stars. It was cloudy, but she could still see one or two twinkling overhead. DoDo sat down next to her, just far enough away where she could feel him without actually touching him.

“Do you think I can actually do this?” she asked him, still staring up at the sky above them.

After a moment, he replied. “I think you have a way to go yet.”

She smiled. “You know, I almost could take that as a compliment.”

He grumbled something or other, but he remained beside her as they gazed up in silence at the stars. Both wrapped up in thoughts of the future.

Nearby, a dark figure hooded and cloaked stood in an alley. Hatred and vengeance pulsing through it’s veins as it watched them. It’s thoughts were deeply mired in the past but it too awaited the future. The time was coming, but not now. Tonight was not the proper time to strike, there was still so much to do. It turned and disappeared down the alley, heading towards the edges of town.

It could wait a bit longer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, think of this our training montage. Or B has a thing for that Skin Deep deleted scene moment and here- have a thing.


	32. Chapter 32

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DoDo keeps taunting Lacey that he knows a secret that she doesn't. The truth comes out when she sees Ruby sneaking out of Archie's apartment early one morning, wearing clothes from the night before.

_January 23, 2016_

Six inches of snow.

Six, goddamn fucking miserable inches.

Despite her condemned building’s lack of heat, Lacey had managed to stay warm with a few helpful incantations and a roaring fire. This morning though, she was going to have to bite the bullet and walk down to Sprat’s. She had nothing more substantial in her fridge than a bottle of champagne and her pantry was completely bare. The downside of always ordering take out, she supposed.

Pulling her wool coat closed, she was just about to step out the door of her building when she caught a flash of red out of the corner of her eye. The lobby’s main window, the one facing Archie’s house, was iced over, but there was a definite red shape visible through the thick layers. Moving over to it, Lacey lifted her hand, peeling her glove off to place it flat against the window. With a brief whisper of the heating spell, all too familiar to her now, the ice began to thaw rapidly. In seconds, she could see clearly out of a small window through the ice, and what she saw surprised her enough to drop her hand away.

Ruby was standing on the front porch of Archie’s house in her trademark hooded red pea coat. She looked exhausted, her usual perfect hair was a rat’s nest and her makeup was smeared as if she had slept in it. Archie was standing in his doorway, looking as if he was arguing with her. Before Lacey could move to eavesdrop, Ruby shook her head and hurried away from the house. She disappeared out of sight as Archie stood there, watching with a worried look on his face.

Lacey watched until he closed his door, before she dug her cell phone out of her pocket and dialed the one person in Storybrooke who would understand.

“What?”

“Hello to you too,” Lacey snapped, opening her building’s door to step outside. Ruby had already cleared the corner, probably heading home to change before her usual Saturday afternoon shift at the diner. “You’ll never believe what I just saw.”

A sigh answered her. “And what would that be? The sunrise? I do understand you haven’t been awake before noon lately but-”

“Ruby just left Archie’s apartment,” she paused, waiting for his reaction. When it failed to come, she elaborated. The snow and ice were slick under her boots and she carefully made her way to the salted street, checking for cars as she went. “Wearing the same clothes as the night before.”

“And how do you know what she wore the night before?”

Lacey scoffed at him. “Well, I don’t, not really but I’m pretty sure a sequin mini dress is not the usual morning jog attire of my best friend.”

She paused, nearly skidding to a stop as a very sharp painful realization hit her. Ruby wasn’t her best friend anymore, she hadn’t been for a while. DoDo seemed to realize this as well, remaining completely silent on the other end.

“Just thought you might care to know,” she finally said, as Sprat’s came into view. She passed the Nolan’s house, noticing the For Sale sign in the yard by the windmill. No one seemed to be home. She wondered if Kathryn had finally moved out or if she just was spending the weekend at Jim’s.

“As fascinating as that is,” DoDo was saying, “I already knew of Miss Lucas’ spending the night at Master Hopper’s.”

“What?” Lacey exclaimed, stopping short. A couple walking their dog on the other side of the street shot her a worried glance but she ignored them. “What do you mean you already knew?”

“Anyways,” he said, as if he had not just dropped a bombshell. “I need to be going. David wanted some help salting the driveway.”

“DoDo-”

But it was too late. He had already hung up. Lacey growled, tossing her phone back into her bag. She eyed Sprat’s, frowning at the parking lot, already crowded with cars who had dared the snow and ice. Sighing, she went inside, ready to duke it out for something for lunch. She already had plans for dinner.

\--

“Lacey, dear, what a surprise!”

“Hey Granny,” Lacey greeted, opening her arms for the older woman to hug her. “How’ve you been?”

Granny Lucas, owner of Granny’s Diner and Inn, frowned, eyes cutting to the kitchen. “Been better,” she answered, her voice gruff. The widow Lucas was well known for her three pack a day habit, although no one had ever actually caught her smoking, nor did she ever smell of it. It was one of the mysteries of Storybrooke. “What can I do for you?’’

“Table for one,” Lacey replied. It was a quarter to four, and it was already getting dark outside. “Ruby working?’’

“If you can call it that,” Granny answered darkly. “Honesty, Lacey, I’m at my wit’s end. I’m glad you’re here.”

Granny herded her over to a booth, handing her a menu out of habit. Lacey hadn’t needed a menu here in years. “What’s going on?” Lacey asked, seating herself. Granny sat down beside her, ignoring the pointed looks of a few patrons at the bar.

“It’s Ruby,” she confided, glancing back to the kitchen door. “She’s been...acting odd these past few months. Every time I ask her about it, she clams up, won’t say a word. She shows up to work late, disappears when it gets dark and bites anyone’s head off that even looks at her.”

The older woman looked defeated, eyes watery as she blinked up a the fluorescent light over the booth. Lacey looked down at her menu, letting Granny have a minute to collect herself.

“I’m sorry,” she said after a moment. “But Ruby hasn’t answered any of my calls or texts since-”

“Halloween,” Granny finished for her. “I know. She spends all her time locked in her room or disappearing to god knows where. I think she’s seeing someone, she disappears some nights and doesn’t come home until nearly noon.”

“I actually came to talk to her,” Lacey confessed, although her motives were purely selfish. She wanted to know how long Archie and Ruby had been fucking and she wanted to know if that was the reason they had decided to cut her out of their lives. She had though the witch thing had finally become too much to deal with, respecting them enough to let them go their own way. She knew how dangerous it was to befriend a witch, Neal had told them both long ago about the dangers of knowing a demon. But if it was more innocent than that, she deserved to at least know.

“I’m glad,” Granny sighed. “I’ll tell her she has a table.” Widow Lucas got up, taking the menu with her. “Hamburger with ketchup only?” she asked, a fond smile playing at the corner of her mouth.

Lacey nodded. “And a milkshake.”

“Coming up.”

Lacey settled back in the booth, pulling her phone out to check her email. It was the usual spam and junk, two missed texts from Ariel asking about her plans that evening and one from Mary Margaret asking if she wanted to come over sometime that week for dinner. There was also a missed call from a unknown number, showing up as Storybrooke. When she googled it, she was surprised to find it was listed as the Mayor’s Residence.

So engrossed in this discovery, she didn’t notice Ruby was standing beside her until a plate came crashing in front of her, fries falling all over the table as the plate cracked in half.

“Jesus!” Lacey cursed. Ketchup had splattered all over her. Ruby looked down at her, face completely blank. “What the hell, Ruby?”

“Sorry,” the waitress replied blandly. “Will that be all?”

“Ruby!”

Lacey looked over to find Granny hurrying over to them, looking as mad as Lacey had ever seen her. Ruby crossed her arms over her chest, looking off into the distance as she ignored both of them. There was dark red circles under her eyes, deep enough that no amount of makeup had been able to hide them.

“How dare you treat a customer like that?” Granny demanded, reaching Lacey’s table. The few people at the bar, turned to watch. One person even looked as if they were videoing the confrontation. “Much less your friend?”

“She’s not my friend,” Ruby growled, eyes flashing as she looked down at Lacey.

“Well fuck you very much too,” Lacey grumbled, standing from the booth. “How much do I owe you Granny?”

“Nothing,” she answered. “Sit down, let me get you another burger.”

“No,” Lacey said. Ruby wasn’t looking at either of them, but her lips were pressed tight enough that under her trademark ruby red lipstick, they were probably white. “I shouldn’t have come.”

“Damn right,” Ruby replied under her breath, causing her grandmother to round on her again.

“I don’t know what your problem is, young lady,” she scolded, “but you will apologize to Lacey this instant.”

“She should be the one apologizing to me,” Ruby growled.

Granny turned to Lacey, confusion evident on her face. Ruby glared at her, and Lacey felt like she was missing something. “What are you talking about?” she asked, pitching her voice low. The teen taping the, leaned closer and she shot him a warning look. He ignored it, hopping down off his stool to get a better angle.

“You know what I’m talking about,” Ruby grated out. She tugged at her sleeve, rolling it up to her elbow. An ugly scar had grown thick on her forearm, dark red and jagged at the edges. Granny made a cry of distress, grabbing her granddaughter’s arm before Ruby could wrestle it away from her.

“What happened?” she demanded of the two of them, gripping Ruby’s arm in her hands. Her hands were shaking but her usual gruff voice betrayed no emotion. “Lacey?”

Ruby surprised them both. She wrenched her arm away, rolling the sleeve back down. “Dog bite,” she answered sullenly. “Don’t worry about it, Granny.”

“I will worry about it,” her grandmother snapped. “When did that happen? It looks infected!”

“It’s not,” Ruby grumbled. “I had Dr. Whale look at it when it happened.”

Her eyes met Lacey’s for a moment, daring her to contradict her. They both knew the Dark One had healed her, although Lacey hadn’t remembered the bite mark looking that gruesome when he had healed it. Outside, it was growing dark.

“I have to go,” Ruby said suddenly, turning and heading towards the kitchen as if she had not just shown them her scars, both physical and psychological. She ignored her Grandmother’s demands for her to come back, and when Granny hurried after her into the kitchen, Lacey dropped a twenty onto the table, before she left.

Outside, as if he had been waiting for her, Gold was standing across the street against a lamppost. Lacey crossed the intersection, joining him in the half melted snow of the day. The sun was slowly setting, the temperature quickly dropping.  
“How’d it go?” he asked, human cheeks pink from the cold wind. Lacey threw him a look and he shrugged. “What’d you expect? Ambushing her at work like that?”

“I didn’t ambush her,” Lacey grumbled, kicking a snow drift at the curb. “I just wanted to see her.”

“Confront her,” he corrected, but it lacked his usual curtness.

“Talk to her,” Lacey replied. “Hey, do you remember when you healed her arm on Halloween?”

He looked at her, eyes flashing gold for a second under the lamp light. It was a trick of the light, he had been taking the potion to appear truly human for the past week. David had almost caught him one night, and he had been much more careful since.

“I do,” he said, voice neutral. “Why?”

A car’s headlights, pulling out of the Inn’s parking lot, caught the snow bank to their left. Lacey, recognizing the car, cast an invisibility enchantment. Her companion glanced at her in interest but did not remark on it. Ruby’s car drove slowly by them, and the lamp light caught her face, white and pinched as if she was in pain. She drove towards Lacey’s apartment building, going slowly over the still icy streets.

“Come on,” Lacey said, heading after her. Gold sighed behind her, but she heard the crunch of his boots on the snow as he followed after her. By the time they had made it to the corner of her street, Ruby’s car was gone. However, there was tire treads heading into Archie’s garage, and Lacey knew he didn’t have a car, just his old scooter.

“Well, what now?” Gold asked, hands crammed in his overcoat pockets. “Are we to freeze to death here on the sidewalk spying on Master Hopper?”

“Cast a warming spell,” Lacey suggested, moving towards Archie’s front door.

“Careful,” Gold warned her, although she wasn’t sure if he was talking about her condescending comment or the act of trespassing.

Lacey ignored him, moving up to the front door where she tried the handle.

“It’s locked,” she said incredulously. “It’s never locked.”

“Lacey…”

The moon was rising, and as the light rose over the buildings across from Archie’s house, it illuminated her shadow against the door. “Shit,” she mumbled. “Doesn’t this invisibility thing work on shadows?”

“Lacey!”

She turned, surprised. Gold had not moved from the sidewalk, but he had a concerned look on his face. “What?”

“Get back here,” he demanded. “Now.”

Before she could respond, she heard a howling, the eerie echoing of it reverberating down her spine. She took a step back from the door. It had come from inside. It was followed by a low whining, which sounded like Pongo before there was a large crashing, splintering noise as something heavy and wooden broke inside.

Pounding on the door, Lacey forgot she wasn’t speaking to either of them. Something was wrong. Behind her, Gold was behind her, pulling at her but she pushed him off. “Archie!” she yelled, pounding the door harder. “Archie!”

The front door fell open, and she nearly punched her neighbor in the face. “Lacey?” he yelped, but he stood his ground in the doorway. She tried to push past him, but he held firm.

“Where’s Ruby?” she demanded. “Ruby!”

Another howl came from the house, this one low and sad as if calling for someone. “Is that Pongo?”

“You know very well it’s not the damn dog,” Gold snapped, and Archie jumped, having not seen Gold in the shadows of the porch. “Hello, Master Hopper.”

“You both need to leave,” Archie told them, trying to shut the door. “It’s not safe-”

Lacey felt the magic push out her before she knew she was doing it. A second later, the front door had blown open, Archie falling to the side as she pushed past him. She was halfway up the stairs before her feet become stuck to the stairs, and she nearly face planted.

Whirling around as much as she could, she found Gold standing at the foot of the stairs, hands raised as he held her in place. “Let go!” she yelled, but even as she tried to magic herself free, his magic grew stronger. “Something’s wrong! Let me go!”

“Lacey, be quiet!”

The sound of scratching, feverish, could be heard as their shouts died down. A growling, low and feral, came with it, and Lacey, dread in her stomach, sank down until she was sitting halfway up the stairs. “Archie, what the fuck is going on around here?”

“You should know,” he bit out. The door was still open behind him, letting the cold in. She realized she was shivering.

“Master Hopper,” Gold said, the warning clear. “It is no more her fault than Miss Lucas’s.”

“She summoned that creature,” Archie burst out, his face beet red. Gold didn’t flinch, simply raised an eyebrow. “That thing that bit Ruby!”

“She did not summon it. It was here, enjoying Sanheim like the rest of the creatures of the veil. It was drawn here by the power of a witch, yes. But if you remember, it was not Lacey that opened the door to it.”

“Ruby didn’t know,” Archie said, tears spilling down his cheek. “She couldn’t have known.”

“She was warned,” Gold reminded him. “You all were.”

“She doesn’t deserve this,” Archie whimpered, dashing his arm over his eyes. “She didn’t know what to do.”

“You’ve done well,” Gold assured him.

“What the hell is going on?” Lacey exclaimed, slapping the stair beneath her. From upstairs, the scratching became more furious, the growling louder.

“Lower your voice,” Gold told her. “You’re upsetting her.”

“I’m upsetting her? Who the fuck is her?”

“If you would perhaps listen instead of talking,” Gold snapped, turning to fix her with a glare. “You could use that brain of yours that I know you possess despite your continued attempts to convince me otherwise.”

“She’s not-” Lacey swallowed. “She’s can’t be.”

Archie shut the door, leaning his forehead against it. “The first time it happened, she didn’t realize. She showed up here in the morning, naked and crying. She couldn’t remember where she was or how she got there.”

“You figured it out?” Gold asked.

Archie nodded. “Her scar was nearly black, she kept saying it hurt. It hadn’t been like that before, I remember, it was almost completely healed. I realized it was a full moon and…”

Lacey shot up, moving down the stairs to throw the curtains in the dining room open. The spell holding in her place shattered under her need to know. A full moon shown down, illuminating her face and the tears that were now sliding down her cheeks. “No,” she whispered. “No, it can’t be.”

“Tonight is a very important moon,” Gold was saying behind her. “It’s known as a Wolf Moon from the Native Americans. The werewolves are considerably stronger during this one. You should have called me.”

“I didn’t know. I tried to call Neal but she didn’t want anyone to know.”

“I’ll cast a sleeping charm on her, and reinforce the door.”

“It’s steel plated on the outside now,” Archie said, embarrassment coloring his tone. “She nearly got out last month. I had to tranquilize her. She came over last night, but she didn’t change. We’re still working out the way it works.”

“You did well. Lacey, stay down here.”

Gold disappeared up the stairs. Lacey turned from the window to find Archie staring at her. They both had tears in their eyes, and both flinched at the sudden yelping noise before the upstairs went silent. Lacey could feel the magic building upstairs, her own itching to add to it but she tampered it down.

She broke the silence. “Where’s Pongo?”

“My office. He stays there when Ruby is over, it’s just safer.”

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, brushing the tears out of her eyes as she stared down at her feet. “If I had known-”

“Don’t,” Archie said, voice breaking. “Just...don’t, okay?

“When he’s done upstairs, tell him to come back to the kitchen. I’ve got dinner on the stove. We can talk about what to do next.”

He shuffled off down the hall, leaving Lacey in the moonlight, feeling more unsure of herself than she had in months.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> GUYS! I have wanted to write this since I realized Lacey was a witch. I had this prompt and I am sorry to whoever sent it in and wanted Red Cricket and ended up getting a werewolf instead. 
> 
> I loved getting to write this and I had HAD to post it on January 23 which is our Wolf Moon this year. I hope you all enjoy it, painful as is.
> 
> Also, huge thanks to everyone who nominated The House Guest for Best Series and Best Lacey in our 2016 TEA's over on Tumblr. You guys are the best.


	33. Chapter 33

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cruella comes for a visit.

Having a human as a housemate had it’s merits. David Nolan was clean, particularly for a male specimen, and seemed to enjoy cooking as much as he enjoyed those sports programs. Despite the human’s perchance for small talk and his occasional guest, the Dark One didn’t mind the arrangement in the slightest. In fact, it reminded him of the Edwardian days, when the households all servant quarters and a myriad of staff catering to every whim. 

He stopped to consider if the house was large enough for another human, but dismissed it. David lived virtually rent free, and helped out around the house doing odd jobs already. He had no need for a full time cook, and David had already made mention of mowing the grass when it warmed in the spring. For whatever reason, the human seemed more than happy to be of service.

He glanced over at where David currently sat, looking through want ads in the local paper. His phone was next to him, screen blank although the human glanced at it every few seconds as if afraid to miss something.

“Didn’t you just see Mary Margaret this morning?” Gold needled, lowering the volume on the television. David, nowhere near as perceptive as Lacey, had yet to catch on that all the ‘reruns’ Gold watched were actually unaired future episodes. 

David chuckled, flipping the newspaper closed as he stretched in his seat. “I was actually waiting for a call from the Sheriff’s office. Graham had an ad in the paper last week for some help around the station, said I would hear something back today.”

“Tedious,” Gold remarked as David disappeared into the kitchen. He glanced down at his watch, noticing it was nearly two in the afternoon. “Grab me one too,” he called and heard David murmur an agreement and the clink of beer bottles as he drew them from the fridge. 

“Oh hey,” David said, reappearing in the doorway. “I meant to tell you, Mary Margaret wanted to know if you and Lacey wanted to have dinner sometime this week.”

Gold arched an eyebrow. “Have I done something wrong?”

David looked puzzled. “No, she just thought it might be nice.”

Before Gold could point out the numerous reasons why it would not be nice, the doorbell rang. David glanced over at his phone, still dark, while Gold glanced at the clock over the television. It was not half past two yet, which meant the school teacher was still at school, the witch would at home sleeping and the Mayor would still be at work.

“You expecting anyone?” David asked, standing.

Gold shook his head. “Neal’s up in Canada for the month,” he recalled. “If it’s one of the nuns, tell them to buzz off.”

“Gold,” David exclaimed, stopping dead in his tracks. “You can’t tell a nun to ‘buzz off’.” The doorbell rang again, this time ringing longer as if someone was holding the buzzer down. “Coming!” David called out, disappearing down the hall. 

Gold stood, as well. He had spelled the property, no one that meant him harm would be able to cross the boundary. He kept meaning to invite the witch over next time she was in a tizzy over something, it would be well worth her fury to watch her bounce off the invisible wards. 

Before he could cast a protection charm, he heard the drawling tones of the very last person he had assumed would ever show up in Storybrooke.

“He’s expecting me, darling,” the newcomer assured David, ignoring the human’s protests. Heels clacked down the hallway. He had reseated himself by the time Cruella De Vil waltzed into his living room. “Well,” she murmured, smiling down at him. “What a house. Did it come with Chiseled Chin or is he an addition?”

“David,” Gold sighed, as the other man joined them. “This is Ms. De Vil, Neal’s godmother.”

“Charmed,” the woman simpered, holding out a gloved hand for him to kiss. David looked at a loss, but Cruella gave him an icy smile before shrugging out of her fur cur. “If you’ll just hang this somewhere,” she said in dismissal. David, looking bewildered, disappeared from sight, lugging the large white and black fur coat with him.

“Now,” Cruella sighed, settling down on the divan by the fireplace. “A gin and tonic before I perish of thirst.”

Gold clicked his fingers, and the requested drink appeared in her hands. “Ah,” Cruella sighed as she drank half the glass in one elongated sip. “Just like mother used to make.”

“What are you doing here, Cruella?” he demanded. “Bit out of the way of Manhattan for your tastes. “

“Why, I’m here to visit you,” Cruella said, acting shocked. “Why else would I be here?”

“To cause trouble, more than likely,” he replied, switching out his own beer for something a bit harder. The scotch and rocks barely chinked as it came into existence, and he took a fortifying drink as he engaged in battle. “You’re looking tired. You must be behind on your sacrificing newborns for youth.”

“It was a long trip, all the way up to this backwater town all by my lonesome, I thought I might die of boredom before I hit the state line,” she said. “I don’t know how Neal does it!”

“He takes the train,” Gold shot back. “Perhaps you should try it. Or I would be happy to assist you in returning to hell, whichever is easiest.”

Cruella flashed him her teeth in a facsimile of a smile. “Now, now, short stuff,” she huffed flirtatiously. “Play nice or I’ll tell Neal you were rude.”

“He knows I’m rude,” Gold scoffed. “He’ll be more shocked that you left your apartment.”

“I’m worried about him,” Cruella said, in uncharacteristic truthfulness. “He’s been coming and going more frequently these past few months than he has since the thirties. When Mal told me you were back in the picture, I decided a quick trip was in order.”

Gold’s fingers tightened unpleasantly around his class. If Mal was alerting her cronies, it was only a matter of time before Storybrooke was inundated with associates whom he would rather not know of his current location. Cruella was nothing, she had been harboring an exasperating crush on him for a century now. 

“What’s this I hear about the Nun being here?” Cruella asked, shaking her glass at him for a refill. He obliged, knowing Cruella was harder to divert when completely sober. “She’s not been around this part of the world in a century.” 

“Not since Salem, no,” he agreed. “Is that why Mal is spreading the word?”

“She’s displeased by her presence in this hemisphere,” Cruella consented, “but the fact of the matter is, you’re here. You never called.”

“Cruella, this is not the time-”

Before he could finish that thought, the front door opened. The two of them turned, even as it slammed shut, and a fast paced clicking of heels announced the newcomer was heading straight towards them.

“Gold?”

He grimaced. The witch had perfect timing, he’d give her that. Cruella shot him a sly look, even as she settled back with her drink in hand to watch the fireworks.

Lacey appeared in the doorway a moment later, typing away on her phone and barely looking up as she stomped in the room. She wore a peacoat over tights and some ridiculous stilettos boots that had no functionality he had been able to fathom other than making her ass looking more appeasing to humans than usual. 

“Who is this?” Cruella remarked, eyes raking over Lacey. “A witch?”

Lacey glanced up, looking directly at Cruella without seeming at all surprised. Without answering Cruella, she turned to him with an exasperated look. “Who's the dye job?”

“My, my, the witch has teeth,” Cruella murmured. “Tell me, darling, is this your new tart of the millenia? I do think you could do better.”

Lacey strolled over, perching herself on the back of his couch. She kept a friendly but cold smile on her face as she assessed Cruella, finally lifting her brows in silent comment before returning her attention to him. 

“Where’s David?” the witch asked. “I needed his help with something.”

“What would you possibly need his help with?” he grumbled, looking up at her. He could see Cruella out of the corner of his eye, and enjoyed her disgruntled look immensely. Lacey seemed to enjoy it too, smiling down at him in a mischievous way. 

“None of your business,” she answered teasingly. He resolved to drag it out of her later. He had been meaning to press her for more information on the werewolf waitress. She had been avoiding him lately, and he had been close to sending Regina after her. A werewolf was not something they needed running around town, not with Zoso already lurking and the Nun up to who knows what.

“Isn’t anyone going to introduce us?” Cruella drawled, whipping out a cigarette holder from her clutch. She inserted a cigarette, turning to him for a light. Before he could react, Lacey twisted her fingers and a small ball of light erupted into life at the cigarette tip. It was artfully done. The spell was easy, the accuracy more difficult. He didn’t put it past her to have been aiming for Cruella’s hair though. “Dah,” Cruella murmured, taking a drag. 

“Lacey, this is Neal’s godmother,” he said, resisting the urge to grimace as smoke wafted in his direction. Cruella’s smoke of choices was as odious as brimstone, and he saw Lacey wrinkle her nose but she too remained stoic in the face of it. “Cruella De Vil.”

“Charmed,” Lacey drawled back in a decent mockery of Cruela. “What brings you to Storybrooke?”

“Just visiting old friends,” Cruella answered after another exhalation of smoke. “I have dinner plans later but I got in early to have a drink with my good friend Gold here. I’m hoping to convince him to join me for a nightcap afterwards. We do go back quite a ways.”

“Really?” Lacey replied a deadly smile. Her fingers began to toy with his hair, and he had to resist stiffening in surprise. Cruella’s eyes widened at Lacey’s blatant battle line, but swallowed back whatever she had been about to say. “How’s that?”

“We used to be quite close,” Cruella insinuated with a wink. 

He nearly choked on his drink.

Before he could deny it, Lacey’s fingers stilled in his hair. “Used to be,” Lacey continued sweetly. “But times goes on, doesn’t it? Out with the old, isn’t that how it goes?”

The two women were sizing each other up, tension mounting in the air between them. Cruella was powerless, except her little parlor trick, a lingering legacy from her father, but even that had turned deadly before in the right circumstance. Lacey could handle herself, but he doubted Neal would forgive her for eviscerating his godmother. It was the only reason he hadn’t ended Cruella’s miserable life the last few times she had tried something of this nature. She had never been able to take no for an answer. 

Cruella lifted her drink in congratulations. “So nice of you to be open minded enough to consort with a demon. Most witches frown on that behavior.”

“I’m not most witches,” Lacey shot back.

“So true. It must be hard to be so far behind the learning curve,” Cruella said in an sympathetic tone. “Why, our mutual acquaintances were telling me all about how much you still have to learn.”

Lacey’s jaw tightened. “Neal talks too much.”

“Oh, darling,” Cruella laughed. “Neal’s barely the start of those worried about you. Maleficent and Regina have sent me numerous reports on your little interest with the demon here. Although you weren’t content with just one pet, were you? I’ve heard tell you summoned another demon, that’s just getting cocky, my dear.”

“Enough,” he declared. “You forget yourself, Cruella.”

Lacey seemingly had enough as well. “I’ll leave you two to it. Now, David is where?”

“Upstairs,” he answered, returning to his drink.

“Thanks,” Lacey chirped.

“Run along, now,” Cruella ordered, flashing her a wry grin before Lacey could move from the back of the couch. “We have some catching up to do.”

He felt Lacey pause and he turned to glance up at her. She had a gleam in her eyes as she leaned down. He barely managed to avoid recoiling backwards before her lips met his. 

Her lips were cool but soft. He stared up at her in astonishment, only just remembering to close his eyes to make it look convincing. When she pulled back, she smiled seductively before hopping off the back of the couch. Her hand brushed along the back of his neck. “You two have fun,” she murmured, sashaying down the hall. “Nice to meet you, Ella.”

“Cruella,” De Vil snapped, looking rather disgruntled as Lacey had already disappeared. She shot him a look over her glass’s rim. “You and witches,” she grumbled, “it’s disgusting.”

“You’re father was a mystic,” he reminded her. 

“And my mother a half-breed,” she reminded him haughtily. “Perfectly normal.”

He refrained from reminding her of her overall lack of mystical powers, the odd sensation of the witch’s lips on his still lingering. He had allowed Lacey’s little childish display to prevent Cruella from making a fool of herself but now he was tired of the lot of them. “I won’t have any trouble here,” he warned her. “If you’re up to something-”

“Nothing of the sort,” she assured him with a suffering sigh. “Can’t two old lovers have a drink from time to time?”

“You were never a lover,” he reminded her. “Simply an annoyance.”

“Hmm,” she mused. “If you say so, darling.”

 

\--

“Thought I heard you,” David greeted as Lacey strode into the study. The upstairs was mostly David’s space, but he preferred to spend time downstairs unless Gold was home. “Want a drink?”

“No, I’m fine,” Lacey assured him, plopping down on the couch across from the desk. She was still amped up from that bitch downstairs. She had cast a dampening spell to avoid DoDo eavesdropping, knowing he was probably furious about her little act downstairs. She would hide up here until she thought it safe to duck out without him knowing. “What are you doing?”

“Emailing some references for a job,” he replied, glancing back at the screen. “I was supposed to have a phone interview today, but I left my phone downstairs in the living room. I didn’t want to disturb them so I just did it over Skype.”

Lacey smiled as she moved her hand to her pocket. With a small exhale, a word hidden in the breath, she pulled his phone from her pocket. “I grabbed it for you,” she said, tossing it over to him. “Figured you might need it and you’re obviously too chicken to go back in there alone.”

“Thanks,” he laughed, not disputing it. “She’s intense.”

“Tell me about it,” Lacey agreed, crossing her legs. “She acted as if she owned the place.” He grinned at her and she hastened to the point of her visit. “Hey, Mary Margaret asked me about dinner this week?”

“Yea,” David said absently, checking his phone. “I just told Gold about it.”

“Right,” she sighed. “That’s what I wanted to ask you about. I know in the past it might have seemed as if Gold and I were...together but-”

“You’re not?” David asked, glancing up at her in confusion. “You guys spend so much time together.”

“It’s complicated,” Lacey clarified with a shrug of her shoulders. Beside the fact that she had just kissed him, that was true. She had only kissed him to get the bitch downstairs to stop grinning at her like she knew the secret of the sphinx and she was already trying to remember why it had seemed like a good idea at the time. “Mutual interests and what not. I just didn’t want to hurt Mary Margaret's feelings and I know everything with you two is kind of new and fragile right now, so I didn’t want to ruin her plans. Maybe Ariel and Eric could go with you guys?”

David frowned at her, glancing towards the open door. “Lacey,” he started, looking perplexed. “If this has something to do with...the whole...monster thing-”

It was Lacey’s turn to be perplexed. “The what?”

He gave her a pointed look. “The scaled skin, talon claws and golden eyes thing,” he said. “I know you know, I’ve seen you two together when he’s like that.”

Lacey continued to gape at him. “You think Gold’s a monster?” she attempted, shooting him a wry grin even as her heart began to pick up speed. People that knew weren’t safe. Ruby was proof of that. “Come on, I know he can be a jerk but he’s no monster.”

“Fine,” David sighed, glancing back at his phone. “Don’t tell me. I’m not stupid, Lacey and I won’t say anything but give me some credit okay?”

There was a pregnant pause and then Lacey finally nodded. “Yea, okay whatever you say. Just get us out of this double date.”

“Oh no,” David said, looking up with a grin. “You’re definitely coming to dinner with us. You think I’m going to miss a chance to get back at you two for that freezer aisle debacle? I’m still in the dog house for that one.”

“Hey,” Lacey complained, uncrossing her legs to lean towards him. “You were married!”

“Thanks for reminding me” David grumbled. “Now, can I put you as a reference?”

“Fine,” she grumbled, leaning back on the couch. She crossed her arms in a pout as she kicked her foot impatiently. “But I’m telling them you’re impossible.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, thoughts?
> 
> Ha, okay, let me just jump in front of this a bit- Lacey does not like to share, we've seen that repeatedly and her instinct is to mark things as her own at risk of losing them. When faced with a fellow creature such as Cruella, she responded in the best way she knows how. 
> 
> Did she think it through? Nope. Does this give us an insight on her true feelings? Ummmmmm. (Yes.) Does she know her true feelings? (Nope.) 
> 
> Anyways, hope you guys enjoyed meeting Cruella. It was entirely CuddleWuddleBunny's prompt and I was excited to finally get to write this one.


	34. Chapter 34

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Hey, how's Dinner going?
> 
> (AKA: B, it's been three months. What's up with Lacey and DoDo?)

 

_This beauty was made by RowofStars and I absolutely adore it. It's so spot on to this verse I could cry._

 

If there was one thing Lacey could count on, it was the Dark One’s self interest.

“I don’t understand,” he grumbled. “Am I being punished?”

“No, Gold,” David sighed, rubbing at the stubble on his face. “It’s just a dinner.”

“Just a dinner?” Gold repeated. He turned a baleful eye on Lacey, who shrugged innocently. “Last time there was just a dinner, I was exposed to multiple courses of inedible mush and small talk.”

David looked to Lacey for support and she shrugged right back at him. “Leave me out of this,” she said, looking back down at her cell phone. “I told you he was going to say no.”

“It’s important to Mary Margaret,” David repeated, although it was clear to all three of them he was losing steam. “She still feels terrible about what happened last time.”

Last time being the dinner that had followed Cruella’s little visit. Gold had been surly, Lacey had been exhausted from a particularly nasty spell practice session, and David had been too busy checking his phone to see if he had head back on his job application to notice. Mary Margaret had been near tears by dessert, which was only worsened when she served a cherry pie, with pits still in it.

“Couldn’t you invite Ariel and Eric?” Lacey suggested. “They like double dates.”

Indeed, Ariel had been heartbroken when she had heard Gold and Lacey had gone over to Mary Margaret's for dinner. It had taken four phone calls, sixteen text messages, three emails and a personal visit to Ariel’s office to get her friend to believe they had not meant to hurt her feelings.

David shook his head. “That’s not the point. She wants to try again with you two. She’s lost all confidence at socializing and she thinks if maybe we all give it another shot…”

Gold crossed his arms over his chest, and shook his head vehemently. His hair was getting shaggy, nearly reaching his collarbones and Lacey wondered what the usually tight curly haired demon looked like with longer hair. She hadn’t seen DoDo’s true form for months now, and she was growing dangerously used to the man sitting in front of her.

The man she had kissed, a little nagging voice reminded her. She swatted it away, but she noticed Gold staring at her from the corner of his eye and quickly returned to paying attention to the matter at hand.

“I wouldn’t ask if this wasn’t important,” David said. “I’ve been training for the past three months, and she’s just finished with school for the year. It’s a perfect time.”

Gold shot her a pointed look under his brows.

“David,” Lacey said, “you know Gold and I aren’t...dating.”

“Oh, yea,” he snorted. “You just spend all your free time together.”

Lacey resisted the urge to groan. “Okay, fine. What time?”

“Lacey!”

“What time?” Lacey repeated over Gold’s protests.

“Seven, tomorrow, at her apartment,” David said quickly, bounding up before Gold could stop him. “I’ll see you guys then, I’ve got to get to work!” And like that, he was gone, the front door swinging shut behind him.

Gold buried himself deeper into the couch. “Ridiculous,” he snorted. “That’s when my show’s on.”

“You mean the one you’ve been writing fan fiction about in your free time?” Lacey teased, watching his eyes grow wide. “Yea, didn’t think I was going to miss that little treasure trove, did you?”

He glowered at her, and the chair she was seated upon buckled backwards. Lacey didn’t even flinch, but righted it with a slight wave of her pointer finger. “Touchy,” she muttered, as the chair’s front two legs landed. “So, David likes his job?”

Gold, happy to change the subject, nodded. “He’s been glowing,” he spat. “Between that and the woman, he’s been floating on air these past few months. Disgusting.”

“Hey,” Lacey scolded him. “David deserves to be happy. He’s a good man.”

“He’s a man,” Gold said grumpily. “How’s the coven going?”

“Oh, a barrel of fun,” Lacey sighed, putting her phone down. Now, that Mal moved to town, Storybrooke had the minimum requirement to form a coven, which meant in the Laws of the Three, that they had to. “The Nun showed up and everything.”

It had been a particularly terrible first gathering. Mal had been bored, Regina annoyed and Lacey confused as to why they even had to gather in the first place. It wasn’t until the Nun had shown up, she had realized they were just doing it to keep their asses out of the fire. If they didn’t toe the line, the Church had made it clear they would step in and none of them wanted that.

Gold grew somber. “So, the Nun knows.”

“About me?” Lacey asked. “Yea, she wasn’t thrilled. Regina had to remind her that as a member of the Church, she did not qualify to enter the Coven. She wasn’t happy.”

“Explains why I felt her presence lurking round here yesterday,” he said, staring off into the distance. “Still, she must realize I’m no longer the only demon in Storybrooke.”

“Any word on… him yet?” Lacey asked carefully. The demon she had summoned on Halloween night had been dangerously quiet, although the small town of Storybrooke had been rather colorful as of late.

Regina took particular glee in sending her nasty emails every time something sinister happened.

 **SUBJ: Fourth Family Pet Missing;**  
_(Ms. French, any idea what kind of animal might be able to break into locked homes in the middle of the night without a sound?)_

 **SUBJ: Hiker Attacked by Bear**  
_(Ms. French, as there are no bears in these woods, would you care to comment on this?)_

 **SUBJ: Local Ship Sunk; Owner Blames Sharks**  
_(Ms. French, this is getting out of hand!)_

 **SUBJ: Local Butcher Store Meat Drained of all Blood; No Money Taken**  
_(Ms. French, CALL ME)_

It had been around the twentieth email at the end of April that Mal had arrived in town with her shetland pony, Dragon, at her side and a carpet bag. She had moved into the abandoned building below Lacey, declaring it was time to get serious about her training, which meant Lacey now had three teachers instead of one.

And why she was currently hiding out at Gold’s instead of at the Rabbit Hole’s Happy Hour.

“How’s Ruby?” Gold said, his segue way painfully obvious.

“Still not speaking to me,” Lacey said with a sigh, picking at her beer bottle label. “Archie’s at least saying hello to me again. Although that may be more because I say it to him first.”

“She’ll come around,” Gold said, though his tone made it clear he could care less one way or another. “The next full moon?”

“The twenty first,” Lacey supplied easily. Mal had made her memorize the entire next four years’ moon charts just to be safe. “Any word on the potion you were talking about last month?”

He shook his head. “Wolfsbane based potions have had some success in Europe, but no one’s done any viable research in years. There hasn’t been a need.”

“Goodie,” Lacey mocked. “Well, thanks to good old ZoZo, we have a need.”

Brown eyes glared at her and Lacey raised her hand in defense. “Hey, look, he’s here. We can say his name, he’s not the boogey man for Christ’s Sakes. Hell, Regina wants to exorcise the whole damn town.”

He looked grumpily back at his tea. “Well, why doesn’t she?”

Lacey resisted the urge to wring his neck. “Because, as you have reminded me often, if we exorcise the town, you and any lingering spirits and any creature not of this world goes bye bye. Ruby doesn’t deserve that.”

She didn’t meet his eye, but he didn’t deserve that either. As much as he annoyed her, the Storybrooke Coven was well aware that DoDo was the only reason Storybrooke had not been razed to the ground yet. Annoying as he was, he had been keeping a careful eye on the demonic activities, and they were all convinced ZoZo was being kept in check by the Dark One.

“Hey, how’s Neal?” she asked, changing the subject hastily.

“Back in New York with Cruella,” Gold sighed. “He’s not thrilled with the situation. Jefferson’s never been too good in domestic situations.”

“Jefferson?” Lacey asked, wrinkling her nose. “Is that the junkie half breed?”

Gold nodded. “The Hopper, the Zoolinguist and the Immortal are all holed up in a penthouse in Manhattan. I don’t know how they haven’t killed each other yet...”

Lacey didn’t respond. If Jefferson, Cruella, and Neal were all living together, relatively close by, they knew something the Coven didn’t. And if they knew something…

“DoDo,” Lacey said sharply, “what aren’t you telling me?”

A pause and then.

“When did you say the next Coven meeting was taking place?”

“DoDo...”

“We should practice those jinxes again,” he said thoughtfully, rubbing his chin. “Or the compulsion charms, you’re a natural at those but it couldn't hurt to hone them…”

“DoDo.”

“Now, I’ve spoken to Regina about your training schedule on potions. As my best student in potions, I trust you’re being well trained but Mal mentioned you’re not focusing on divination, which could be a weak spot…”

“DoDo!”

He turned, frowning at her. “No need to shout.”

Lacey stood, coming over to stand beside him. “I’ve been nonstop training for three months now,” she reminded him. “I eat, breathe and sleep spells and charms, and I can recite the stupid book by heart now, and yet you still won’t tell me why this is so important.”

“You need to be ready,” he said simply. “I won’t always be here and my influence is the only thing keeping Regina agreeing to train with you.”

Lacey couldn’t resist the wry grin at the mention of Regina’s frustration over the whole situation but that did not seem to amuse Gold at all.

“You can laugh all you want,” he said, turning from her. “Now, I’m going to fetch the orbs of judgement from the Dark Castle and when I get back you had better be ready to spar.”

“Hey, DoDo?”

He paused, but did not turn to face her.

“How about Chinese tonight? From Shanghai? My treat.”

With a huff, he disappeared.

Lacey grinned. She’d take that as a yes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew, lots happened in the few months we've been away. Small chapter letting you know what's going on in town, and with our favorite Half Breeds. 
> 
> As you can see, Lacey is now a fully fledged witch, ZoZo is up to no good, Ruby is still a sad werewolf, DoDo is growing concerned, Regina is being forced into being a mention, the Nun is snooping around, David and Mary Margret are blissfully happy, and Mal is the newest addition to Storybrooke. 
> 
> For my birthday this year, PrissyGirl wrote me the cutest little ficlet for this verse where DoDo writes Fanfic of his favorite show Happy Endings and Lacey just happens to find it. It's now canon. Whee. Read it here: http://prissyhalliwell.tumblr.com/post/142239551592/her-handsome-hero-as-written-by-the-dark-one
> 
> Hope you all have been well!


	35. Chapter 35

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lacey goes in to eat at Granny's and hears the latest gossip: many of the female population who hung out at the Rabbit Hole are fawning after this new guy... Apparently his sexy mysterious aura, to die for accent, and incredible dance moves have won them over...how will Lacey react when she finds out it is Gold?
> 
> (Hint: Not Well!)

Wednesday’s lunchtime rush at Granny’s diner was no different than any other week day lunch except for two things.

One, the special was lasagna.

Two, Ruby was off.

Lacey sank into her usual booth, smiling in greeting as Granny nodded at her in welcome. Seconds later, a warm plate of lasagna, topped with freshly grated parmesan cheese, slid in front of her quickly followed by a glass of diet coke. 

It was a standing tradition, one of the few still left to Lacey. “How’s things?” she asked after she had finished inhaling deeply. Granny’s lasagna was heavenly as always, and her stomach rumbled in eager anticipation. 

Granny sighed heavily, wiping her hands on her apron as she glanced around the busy diner. A few regulars were crammed into booths, but there were a few faces that Lacey hadn’t seen around town in a while. “Spring is here,” Granny said approvingly. “Everyone is coming out of the woodwork, including that lot.”

She indicated a table behind Lacey with a jab of her chin. Lacey twisted to find some familiar faces from the Rabbit Hole, including Anastasia, her sister Dru and Jack. They luckily didn’t see her staring and she turned hastily back around. She hadn’t seen them all winter, and she did not want to break her streak. 

“I gotta get back to work,” Granny said, as a platter of something crashed in the kitchen. “You doing okay?”

Lacey nodded, but did not reach for her fork. She waited, patiently. 

Granny did not leave either and after a moment, she finally caved. “Ruby’s doing well,” she said brusquely. “You two still fighting?”

They covered this every week, so Lacey let out her usual sigh. “We’re not fighting.”

Technically, they weren’t. Ruby just was pretending she didn’t exist, and Lacey couldn’t exactly blame her for that. 

“Just not speaking to each other,” Granny grumbled. “You better make up with her soon or I’ll change up her schedule.”

“Not lasagna Wednesdays,” Lacey said pitifully, a hint of a smile on her face. “You wouldn’t do that to me, Granny.”

“Watch me,” the older woman said, but there was hint of amusement in her tone. “Hurry up and eat. One person taking up this big ole booth is bad for business.”

“See you next week,” Lacey called out as the older woman bustled away. Left alone with her lunch, Lacey pulled at her phone, fumbling for her headphones when she heard it.

“You and Gold?”

Freezing, she twisted ever so slightly in her seat, and saw the table of three women behind her laughing conspiratorially. Jack had a smug grin on her face, and was waiting for the appreciative laughter to die down. 

“So, are you really?” Dru asked, leaning closer.

“Course she isn’t,” her sister said, swatting her shoulder. “Jackie here would have told us all the sordid little details by now if she was.”

“I didn’t go home with him, if that’s what you’re implying, Dru,” Jack said, helping herself to the platter of cheese fries between them. “He did however buy the rest of my drinks.”

“Lucky,” Anastasia moaned. “I told you we shouldn’t have left so early!”

A family of four entered, and the entire restaurant got a little louder in response to talk over the shrill voices of the young children. Lacey dropped a small eavesdropper charm, and the rest of the eatery faded away until it was as if she was sitting at the table in the back corner with the other three.

“He’s a good dancer,” Jack was saying. “Not too handsy, but just the right kind of pressure to make you feel wanted.”

Dru whistled. “And here I thought he was seeing Racy Lacey!”

“Oh, please,” Jack laughed. “He may be sleeping with her but he’s not with her.”

Lacey felt the burning sensation of a hex warming her palm and she grabbed for her beverage. The condensation met her skin with a sizzle but she couldn’t help but hear the rest. How many times had she told people they weren’t a thing! As if she would sleep with DoDo, of all the ridiculous-

“Who knows,” Jack said brazenly, “if I don’t get him into bed first, I know that waitress Goldie has been practically following him home.”

“I don’t know what he saw in Lacey,” Anastasia added with a giggle. “She’s too old for him anyway!” 

Lacey saw red. 

The sound of breaking glass penetrated through the haze. The next thing Lacey knew her jeans were soaked in soda and the entire restaurant was staring at her. Granny hurried over with a towel, mopping things up as Lacey muttered her apologies.

She had somehow avoided any cuts, but as Granny took the broken pieces away, Lacey noticed the trio had paid their tab and left. She glanced at the time on her phone and saw it was nearly time for her afternoon session with Regina.

At the prospect of having to listen to Regina bait her for the remainder of the afternoon, Lacey summoned a shot of tequila into existence, and threw it back before anyone noticed it. She’d need fortification if she was going to get through this afternoon without killing someone. 

“Little early for happy hour, isn’t it?”

Lacey looked up sharply, to find a woman sitting in her booth. She was petite, with big brown eyes that looked permanently amused. The most striking thing about her was the heavy golden crucifix which dangled over her navy robes. 

“Reul,” Lacey greeted carefully. She tucked her hair behind her ear, and looked down at now soggy lasagna. “Do you mind?”

The petite brunette woman shook her head, glancing away as Lacey did a brief refresher spell. The smell of warm lasagna became increasingly stronger at their table, and Lacey did not hesitate before taking a large bite before Granny came back to check on her. 

“Well, now,” Reul murmured as Granny bustled back over to them with a new beverage. She shook her head pleasantly when Granny asked if she needed anything, waiting for the woman to leave before speaking. “Quite the hot spot here today.”

Lacey paused in shoveling the food in her mouth. “What?”

Reul smiled tightly. “I’ve counted an Auditory Aid, a Heat Hex and a Eruption Enchantment all within the last hour from this very booth. Add that little Summoning Spell and I’m surprised your coven isn’t here already.”

“Regina’s busy with being the mayor,” Lacey said snippily, “and Mal could give a rat’s ass.”

“Hmm,” Reul said under her breath. “Well, I thought perhaps you might be in need of some aid? So many spells in such a short amount of time...and in public.”

“Nope,” Lacey said happily, waving the fork at her in midair. “All good.”

The doors chimed as another group left. Lacey looked up just in time to see Ruby hurrying inside, shedding a spring jacket as she hurried over to the counter. Their eyes met for the briefest of seconds before Ruby wrenched her’s away.

“Ah,” Reul said knowingly, and Lacey had to resist stabbing her with the fork. “So, that’s the town werewolf.”

Icy dread seized Lacey’s stomach. “What are you talking about?” she demanded. “We don’t have werewolves here.”

Reul gave her a pitying look. “Regina registered her last month with the Council,” she told her. “Ruby signed the paperwork and everything.”

Lacey sat stunned silent and Reul continued.

“So, let’s see, by my count, that’s three witches, not including myself, two demons and one werewolf. My, this town has gotten interesting this past year, hasn’t it?”

Lacey reached for her wallet. “You forgot the thirteen ghosts.”

“Ah, I did, didn’t I?” Reul agreed. “Yes, they are interesting, but hardly worth the Church’s time. Everytown has a ghost or two. Now, if you wanted to discuss interesting….there’s the small matter of two demons running around town.”

“I don’t know anything about them,” Lacey finished for her. “Nor would I tell you if I did.”

Reul shook head head, rolling her eyes as her petite fingers twisted sharply in the air between them. As if summoned, the tinny voice of Jack filled the booth. “He may be sleeping with her, but he’s not with her!”

“Cute,” Lacey said, “and your point?”

“The Church is aware that the Dark One has been protecting a protege. Now, when it became obvious that his protege was a witch, we grew concerned.”

Lacey dismissed this. “He’s trained witches before,” she reminded Reul. “Madam Mayor being one of them.”

She hoped like hell Reul didn’t push this, because she knew little to nothing about that particular relationship. DoDo just found his old student amusing, while Regina’s teeth grated at the mere mention of him. Mercifully, it did not seem the topic Reul wanted to pursue.

“And the other demon?” she said mildly. “What of him?”

“Zozo?” Lacey shrugged. “He’s around from what I can tell. Haven’t you been getting Regina’s emails?”

“Madam Mayor has not seen fit to fill me in on these matters,” Reul said. “However, if you would like to discuss anything…”

“Reul.”

Both of them looked up to find Mal standing there, arms crossed with a dark look on her face. The nun smiled up at her, ignoring the death glare she was receiving in return. “Oh, Maleficent,” she said warmly. “I was just talking to your latest and greatest. She’s got quite the talent at pyrotechnics.”

“Not as good as mine,” Mal said icily. “Lacey, get your things, we’re leaving.”

“Mal-”

“Now.”

Feeling like a schoolgirl, Lacey grabbed her jacket and purse and stood up from the vinyl upholstery. From behind the counter, Ruby was doing an excellent job of ignoring her, and Granny had mercifully disappeared into the kitchen. Slapping down some cash for her lunch, Lacey followed behind Mal outside leaving Reul sitting in the booth. 

The older woman did not wait for her, marching towards their building without so much as a look behind her. “Hey, wait up,” Lacey complained, stumbling slightly in her newest wedges. She fumbled with the zipper to her jacket, the May weather still cool this far north. “Mal, would you hold on a second, Jesus.”

Mal whirled on her, and the bright fire that lit up her eyes when she was truly pissed flared to life. “What in the name of Merlin did you think you were doing back there?” she demanded. 

“She just sat down! I didn’t invite her!” Lacey protested. 

Mal shook her head, the wild blonde curls flying around into a frizzy halo. “Forget about the Nun!” she exclaimed. “I meant with the spells! You cannot just blow something up in public and not expect some kind of consequences!”

Momentarily stunned, Lacey stared back at her.

“I was just-”

“Just what, Lacey?” Mal demanded, putting her arms on her hips. “You’re one of the most talented witches I’ve ever met, but you’re lazy, and stubborn and you refuse to listen. Well, keep it up and you’ll be clapped in irons or worse- sent to the Dark Realm itself.”

Lacey huffed. “Chill, Mal. I lost my temper and the soda bottle got it. If I haven’t been hauled into court for summoning not one but two demons, I think I’ll be fine for the mess in booth three.”

“I’m glad you think this is all so hilarious,” Mal said. “This was a mistake. I should never have agreed to come here.”

“Agreed?” Lacey repeated, hurrying after her. “Who asked you to come?”

 

“Never mind,” Mal growled. “You just continue to enjoy your little parlor tricks.”

“Mal!” Lacey snapped, and with a twist of her forearm, she pulled the senior witch backwards.

It was a mistake. Mal, not amused by this, twisted sharply and used the strength of Lacey’s spell against her. Her own spell spun around at her, and then was on her back, blinking up at the sky. Her head felt like someone had taken a bat to it, and her back and elbows were throbbing painfully. She lay there motionless for a moment, assessing the level of stupidity she had displayed in the past thirty minutes.

It was all Jack’s fault, she thought sourly. If she hadn’t been bragging about her and Gold…

Besides what the hell was Gold doing at the Rabbit Hole in the first place? She knew her late night sessions with Regina had cut her hours there by half, but she had never thought to think Gold may have started hanging out there.

He’s a demon, a nasty little voice in her head told her. He makes deals for human souls, and he can’t do that holed up in his little victorian off main street, could he?

Still...she thought that was behind him now. Or for now...or

The sound of footsteps made her crack her eyes open, and found a man standing over her. His features swirled for a moment, and she almost thought it was Gold until he spoke.

“Hey, you okay?”

Lacey nodded, getting up on her elbows gingerly. The man, whoever he was, went to help her, careful to keep a respectable distance. “You aren’t hurt, are you?”

“Just got the wind knocked out of me,” Lacey muttered. He nodded, and the light struck him as a cloud overhead passed. Lacey stilled, and then recognized him as the man from the bar back in December. “Brad, right?” she said, taking his offered hand. 

He helped her upright, smiling uncertainly. “Lacey?”

She nodded as she dusted herself off. They had split a carafe of wine at the local wine bar down on the main shop line months ago, but he had to leave unexpectedly and she had forgotten to get his number. He was smiling self consciously at her, his dark hair curly hair frizzing around his bright blue eyes. 

“Hey, Brad,” Lacey said, glancing down at her phone again. Her screen showed a missed text from DoDo, but she didn’t bother to read it. If Mal was pissed off at her, she might as well blow off Regina’s session this afternoon as well. In for a penny, in for a pound, she figured. She smiled up at the taller man beside her. “How about a drink?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whee! This is one of the older prompts i still have in my inbox so thanks to Anon for holding out for a bit.
> 
> In case you were all wondering how I choose which prompt to write...I just randomly select one 9/10. (The other time being a prompt is perfect for a specific time of year ie Christmas, Halloween and the Wolf Moon) So, if you haven't seen your prompt yet, don't despair! I have it written down and in due time it will come to glorious fruition! 
> 
> Anyway, no DoDo this chapter but plenty of other familiar faces!


	36. Chapter 36

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dodo takes Lacey to the dark castle\underworld or wherever it was he would go when he wasn't at her house.

The air was thick with the scent of smoke, and the clouds overhead dimmed any light from the skies above which made it hard to see exactly from where the growling was emanating.

“DoDo…” Lacey mumbled, not daring to move a muscle. “This isn’t funny….”

The growling grew louder until the hair at the back of her neck stirred. The rotten breath of some beast prevaded her senses and she let her eyes slip shut, even as she tried to frantically remember the shielding charm.

“Oh, look, he likes you.”

In the next instant, a wet, heavy slimy tongue smacked against the back of her head, pulling her backwards. The solid, large frame of some four legged beast greeted her, and when Lacey looked up, she found a dog like creature looking down at her in adoration.

A dog like creature with a ring of fire like a mane around his slender head, and twin eyes full of matching flames.

Pulling rapidly back, Lacey cast a freezing charm, holding it in her palm as she stared wide-eyed at the demon before her. “DoDo,” she said. “What is that thing and why is it licking me?”

“It’s a yaoguai,” her companion said pleasantly, appearing beside the creature. The Yaoguai looked over at him, panting before sitting down complacently. “He’s a fox spirit from China.”

Lacey regarded the creature, and despite his unusual girth, the ears did look rather fox-like. “What’s it doing here?” she asked.

“He’s a guardian,” the Dark One replied. “He guards.”

“HIlarious,” Lacey shot back, and dropped the freeze charm. With a disgruntled sigh, she concentrated on a repair spell, and dragged her fingers through her now mussed hair, feeling the electricity dancing from her solar plexus into her fingertips.

When she felt back to rights, she dropped her hands to find the yaoguai still staring at her in interest and DoDo gone. “Hey!” she called out, twisting around.

Everywhere was cast in shadow and gloom, the blacks and greys blurring together to make the landscape dull and monotone. It stretched in all directions, the nothingness except for the singular plot of land she currently stood upon.

The Dark Realm. The Other Realm. The Final Rest.

Every creature had their own name for this place. The witches called it the Veil, and Lacey could now say that she was one of the few that had ever seen it from this side.

She didn’t care for it.

“Come, come!” DoDo’s voice floated out to her.

She resisted the urge to yell something rude back to him, as she crossed her arms over her chest.

“Where exactly?”

A sound like something sizzling caught her attention and the next thing she knew, a large structure was emerging from the gloom. Jumping back, Lacey almost collided into the fireball of a guard dog, who’s butt wiggled excitedly as she braced herself against it.

A castle stood where only moments ago there had been nothing. It reminded her of an Escher painting, all hard angles and eye defying architecture that broke all laws of physics. “Down boy,” she murmured. The yaoguai whimpered pathetically, having rolled on his back for her to rub his belly.

DoDo stood upon a drawbridge, smirking at her in his traditional leathers and skins. Gold was gone. Instead, there stood the demonic creature she had summoned that fateful night, all bravado and pomp. She marched toward him, barely looking at him as she walked past him.

“You know,” she said, as an afterthought as he turned to walk beside her. “You’ve put on some weight in the mortal realm. Too much Gepetto’s.”

There was a muttered reply but she didn’t hear it. She was too busy staring up in amazement at the interior of the Dark One’s dominion. “Jesus,” she whispered, swallowing thickly. “This place is…”

Words could not adequately describe it. The entrance hall alone had statues from the roman empire, paintings from the renaissance and instead of a staircase, there was a cascading waterfall glistening with sapphires and aquamarines, the froth of the waves pearls and diamonds and the occasional flash of something green in the depths of the pool told her there was more than jewels in the depths.

The stones of the great castle gleamed white, marble underneath her feet free of all veins or impurities and she moved quickly to an elegant persian rug which when she stepped upon it, fluttered slightly as if it was about to take flight.

“Like it?” DoDo asked, his voice mischievous. “Bae always says it’s too ostentatious.”

Lacey nodded, still too stunned to form a complete sentence. “It’s…”

“Not the point of this little trip,” he said, striding past the huge statue of Venus, her arms twisted around her body as if protecting herself from someone’s eyes. “Time passes rather differently in this realm,” he reminded her. “We should hurry.”

Lacey followed behind him, tossing one last look over her shoulder and finding the yaoguai staring forlornly at her as the great doors swung slowly shut behind its master. She hurried to catch up to the Dark One, nearly tripping over herself as they entered a large library, books expanding into every direction, including straight down.

DoDo stood beside her, a pleased smile on his face as her expression changed from shock to awe. “Yes, I thought you’d rather like this,” he said. “There’s a quicker way through the conservatory but you’ve always managed to kill every plant you so much as looked at so I thought this may be more prudent.”

“DoDo,” Lacey breathed, reaching out to touch a nearby shelf reverently. The spines of the books shuffled closer as her fingertips grazed the shelf, all jostling to be touched, to be picked up and read.

“Aha,” DoDo said softly, his hand descending over hers. “Careful. Some of these books have a mind of their own.”

The pull of the witch’s want stirred through Lacey, but it was not the books that moved. Instead, DoDo pulled his hand back from her’s rather hastily, and moved onwards. Lacey followed behind him, feeling more out of place than she had since DoDo had first told her of her birthright.

“Neal’s been here?” Lacey asked, eyes raking over the hundreds of shelves within reach.

“Not since the early 1900’s,” DoDo answered perfunctorily.

“I thought Neal gave up his magic before then,” Lacey said. He had renounced his magic before he had even lived a full life time, and unlike most half breeds, he had no skills or talent beside his apparent agelessness.

“So he did,” DoDo said. “Jefferson brought him.”

Lacey nodded. She did not know much about the Hopper, other than he seemed quite insane. DoDo did not talk about him often, and Regina and Mal had confessed ignorance of the halfbreed entirely. She was curious about him, and he seemed a safe topic as they moved purposefully through the grand library.

“How do you know Jefferson?’’

DoDo stopped abruptly, and she nearly ran into him. “Are you going to quiz me on my associates the entire time?” he asked. “Or will a brief answer be acceptable?”

“Haha,” Lacey said tersely back. “Would you rather I ask you about your decorator?”

“Jefferson,” he said tightly, “is assisting me in locating a few important items.”

“Such as?”

His nostrils flared. Lacey grinned at him expectantly.

“In order to defeat ZoZo, there are a number of items we will need,” he said. “One, the dagger that pierced him as a mortal man.”

“Ooh,” Lacey said under her breath. “Kinky.”

He glared at her.

“What?” she asked innocently. “You mentioned your interest in knifeplay before, haven’t you?”

“Second,” he said, turning back and heading on his way. “The blood of his blood.”

“Ew,” Lacey grumbled. “What’s that even mean?”

“You are a witch,” DoDo reminded her, pulling a hidden door open. It had been cleverly set into a bookshelf, and Lacey skipped through it, entering a dark hallway where Victorian portraits stared down at her in silent reproach. “Think.”

Lacey reached out a hand to trail it along the bannister, admiring the gilt frames and the glistening paints raised on the canvas portraits. “Well,” she murmured thoughtfully. “Would it have something to do with a demon cannot be killed unless by his own kind?”

Mal had made her study demons relentlessly. Judged only by their own kind, demons could only be killed by their own kind or their own blood. It had been glaringly obvious to Lacey the meaning behind that little cram session but she had refused to give Mal the satisfaction. DoDo was a self centered, narcissistic sociopath but he was not dangerous.

Not to her anyways.

“Couldn’t we just let Reul have a go?” Lacey asked him. “She seems more than happy to help.”

“She’d rip the entire fabric of time and space apart in attempting it,” DoDo huffed, “or take the lazy way and exorcise him.”

“Exorcise sends him back here?” Lacey said. “What’s so bad about that?”

“Here does not contain him any more than it did before,” he said stiffly. “He’d find a new way to cross the veil sooner or later. No, we have him out and in our sights, now is the time to strike.”

“Sounds like a lot of bother to me,” Lacey said, pausing to let him take the lead. “Why not just let the next generation deal with it?”

DoDo stopped. This time, Lacey was prepared and did not careen into him. The golden orbs of his demonic eyes glowed bright here in the dark portrait hall and his talons glistened like polished onyx as he lifted them to his cheek in thought.

“You summon the creature and you would merely put him back into his box, leave him for the next spineless witch?”

“Hey,” Lacey protested. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

“No?” he asked, venom in his voice. “You’ve already lost one friend to this creature, and you would wrinkle your nose like some sitcom cardboard cutout of a witch. Close your eyes and blink until it disappears?”

“I was just-”

“We are here,” DoDo hissed, “to wash your hands in the water of the Lethe so that you, the witch that summoned him forth, might bury him for all time and earn your right as Guardian of the Veil.”

“I know,” Lacey stressed. “You told me all of that before we left.”

It was a grand honor. Mal had been the one to suggest it, although Regina had argued it was her duty as Mayor to perform the ritual. DoDo had squashed that idea, reminding the coven that as Lacey had summoned ZoZo forth, it was her duty to dispatch him.

The other two witches had been forced to agree. Ruel’s recent lunchtime chat had alerted them to the fact that she knew Lacey was responsible for ZoZo’s presence. If someone other than Lacey dispatched him, the Church could have her drawn up on charges of improper behavior, which meant the whole coven would be convicted. DoDo would be implicated, possibly forcibly exorcised if not given to the Shades and Ruby, as an infected human, could be killed for her sheer existence.

However, she was a witch. Not a demon, and therefore, there was much to be done before she could face ZoZo. The first of which was a purifying ritual, bathing her hands in the water of the forgotten. Only then could she wield a cursed item without being cursed herself.

Add that the rivers of Lethe’s water could not be transported through the veil without losing it’s magic, meant Lacey now stood in DoDo’s true home, arguing over what to do with a homicidal demon bent on world destruction.

“Well, let’s get it over with then,” she snipped. She pushed past him, not having a clue where she was going and not giving a damn.

She just did not want to stare into those eyes a moment longer. Those golden orbs full of disappointment and disdain.

That’s all she saw these days, Lacey thought bitterly. Mal, Regina, DoDo, Neal, Ruby, Archie. Hell, even her non magical friends looked at her like she was letting them down. Ariel, Mary Margaret, David and Granny were barely speaking to her and she couldn’t remember the last time she had seen Leroy.

Mal and Regina resented her, she knew they did. DoDo was just using her for whatever long con game he had in store for them all, and everywhere she turned there was this expectation…

Even her reflection looked back at her as if she was a colossal failure. Despite her training, her improvements, her striving to be what everyone demanded her to be...she was still who she always had been.

A fuck up of epic proportions.

And they all were beginning to realize it too.

“You’re going the wrong way,” DoDo’s voice floated down the hall to her.

“Well, add it to the list!” Lacey yelled back over her shoulder.

She didn’t dare stop. Not right now.

There were tears in her eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ooh, the plot thickens!
> 
> I hope everyone was excited as I was to finally visit the Dark Realm. As you can see, things are starting to get serious in Storybrooke and Lacey is not handling the pressure very well. 
> 
> Lot of off site exposition on this one, but I thought eh screw it. More fun to just plunge in instead of having a group of witches talk around a table but hey what do I know?


	37. Chapter 37

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gold decides to make an announced visit to his son in NYC and prank him.

_May 16, 2016  
_

 

Rolling over, Neal blearily cracked an eye open to read the glowing clock on his bedside table. It read 2:45 AM. It also happened to be shrieking at full volume.

“Papa…”

“Rise and shine!”

Neal pulled his pillow over his head.

“Now, now,” the Dark One chided, “is that any way to greet your father?”

“It’s three in the morning,” Neal pointed out, his voice muffled under the pillow.

“I did tell you I was coming by this morning!”

“Papa…”

“What’s this? What’s this?”

Letting out a groan, Neal sat upright, tossing his pillow at the newcomer. “Jefferson, go back to bed.”

“Wasn’t in bed!” he said happily, plopping down on the large queen bed beside Neal’s feet. “Is it time to play?”

Neal shot his father a dirty look. “Auntie Cruella will be in here next,” he warned him.

The Dark One, in his fully demonic glory, tittered at this. “Helped put a little something in her drink at dinner. She’ll sleep for half the day if we’re lucky.”

Ignoring his father’s magical mistreatment, Neal rubbed the sleep out of his eyes. “Okay, I’m up,” he declared. “What now?”

“Get dressed,” his father ordered, striding towards the door. “We’ll have to get going if we don’t want to miss it. Come along, Jefferson, let sleeping beauty here get ready.”

“Miss what?” Neal called, but the odd pair were already gone. Grumbling, he swung his feet out of the bed. Reaching for the phone, he thought of texting Lacey but decided against it. She was either still up or had just fallen asleep, and he didn’t dare wake her up. She had been in a mood ever since she had gotten back from the Dark Realm and realized their little trip had been strategically planned to keep her out of harm’s way on Friday the 13th.

He made his way towards the bathroom, but halfway there paused. His head was thick with sleep and he could barely stand without leaning to the side. Switching direction, he headed to the door. He’d shower after he had some coffee.

Auntie Cruella’s penthouse was a magnificent monstrosity, but he made it to the kitchen in one piece. Half asleep, he fumbled through the various k-cups he kept on hand, despite Auntie Cruella’s thoughts on the bland excuse for coffee.

As the coffee finished brewing, the whirring noise of the keurig dying down, Neal decided against lingering. He didn’t need his father to lose patience. His luck he’d magic them both wherever they were going, Neal still shirtless in his old ratty pajama pants and nothing else.

A small smile played around his lips at the thought of appearing in the middle of some crowded street looking like this. He wouldn’t put it past the old demon, when he was hell bent on something, something as trivial as clothes barely crossed his mind.

Meandering back to his room, Neal heard lowered voices in the study area. He paused, sipping his coffee, deciding if he should let his father know he made a pitstop. However, the voices grew slightly louder and he heard the unmistakable word he had come to dread most in this world.

“Our deal?”

“Our deal,” his father’s voice answered, “ is not completed.”

He made his way to the door, heart thudding in his chest. Pushing the door ajar revealed an odd tableau. His father stood with his back to him, a table with a suitcase before him and Jefferson’s behind it, his usual smile absent. “The dagger is not in this realm or the next,” he insisted. “I’ve looked!”

“It’s somewhere,” the Dark One hissed. “Our deal was you would find all the items, not just some of them!”

“Papa?”

He turned, and in a moment the anger melted from his face as he smiled winningly up at him. “Bae,” he said in greeting. “Tick, tock. Time waits on no one, son.”

Neal did not miss that his father had stepped in front of the odd suitcase, blocking his view. He came closer, ignoring him as his eyes landed on the suitcase. “Jefferson….what is that?”

Jefferson made a strangled noise. The Hopper looked pained, scrunching his face up entirely as he tried to keep his lips shut. Neal knew that look. It was the look he made when he was trying very hard to lie about something.

“Jefferson…” Neal warned.

“It’s a suitcase,” Jefferson managed.

“What’s in the suitcase?” he clarified.

“Why, is it that the time already? We should be going, Bae. Don’t want to miss-”

Neal shot his father a furious look over his shoulder. Their eyes held. He did not bother to turn back around. “Answer the question, Jefferson,” he demanded, without moving a muscle. “What is in that suitcase that my father does not want me to know about?”

There was an odd noise like air escaping a tea kettle before the explosion of words burst forth. “It’s the blood, tears and ash of the last mortal descendant of the demon known as ZoZo, First Demon, Destroyer of Worlds and Lord of the Lost.”

A silence fell.

“So,” Neal said slowly. “That’s why Jefferson is here.”

God, he was an idiot. His fingers burned against the hot surface of the coffee mug, but he let the pain focus him.

“Jefferson, leave us,” his father demanded, not breaking the staring contest.

“Oh no,” Neal said, holding up a hand. The sleep had left his voice. Jefferson paused, looking back and forth between the two of them with his frantic eyes. “You’re not going anywhere until you tell me what’s going on.”

“Our deal,” his father growled, “ is between us, son.”

“Do not call me that,” he spat back. His jaw was set, and his knuckles were white where they grasped the mug. “You said you were coming up here for a friendly visit. God, I actually believed you.”

“Bae…”

“No,” Neal laughed. “No, no more Bae, or son. You haven’t changed at all have you? God, I knew you hadn’t and yet I wanted to believe so badly-”

“It’s business.”

“You must think I’m an idiot,” he said, mostly to himself. “Like I don’t know what those particular ingredients are used for? I learned that spell at your knee,” he continued, his voice rising with every word.

He could still remember the day. The court jester, the odd little man who had always been there for him, who cared for him when his brute of a father had beaten him or he had nightmares and woken up crying for the mother he had never known, had taken him aside on his eighteenth birthday.

Everything he had known had changed that day. The jester had revealed he was a demon. Before Neal had been able to say a word, the demon had revealed he was not only that, but his true father too. It had been the day everything had changed. When Baelfire, heir of Sviatoslav the Brave had learned who he truly was. What he truly was.

A halfbreed destined for damnation in the hellfires of the Dark Realm.

“You talked of nothing else but the victory you would attain- that we would attain- and how we would attain it and you think just because the centuries have passed that I’ve forgotten?”

Neal shook his head. It had taken him nearly ten years to learn everything about the Unspoken Laws, and just when his father had been plotting his rise to power, Neal had walked away. He forsook his namesake and was disowned by the creature that had given him life. “God knows what else you’ve lied to me about.”

“God,” the Dark One snarled, feeling the blackness inside him rise as the emotions inside him churned to life. “God is a construct of the Church. It’s the lie they tell the little sheep so they sleep well at night.”

“Don’t start on theology with me, Papa,” he snapped. “Right and wrong, good versus evil- you always had an answer for everything. A distraction from the point at hand. You used us. You used us all.”

“Bae,” he stressed, “I have to do this, son.”

Neal felt sick. “I blamed her,” he said in a gutted voice. “I blamed Lacey for what happened on Sanheim.”

His father’s face registered a moment of shock. It was an odd expression on the demon’s face. “You think I planned for her to summon him?”

“Did you?”

“Of course not!”

“He’s telling the truth, you know.”

“Not now, Jefferson!” Neal said, raising a hand to silence him. “I’m talking to my father.”

“He did however use it to his advantage…hence the house and adopting the mortal persona.”

“Silence, Jefferson!”

“Don’t talk to him like that!”

“I will talk to him how I see fit! He is a halfbreed!”

“So am I!”

They were breathing heavily now. His father’s golden eyes were slits in his face. “You could have been more than that. You were the heir of the Dark Realm. All I’ve ever done, all of it was for you!”

“No,” Neal said, raising a shaking finger. “You did this all for you. You couldn’t just leave well enough alone. You were happy here, with them, with her. I know you were.”

“What would you have me do?” The Dark One demanded. “You know what he is capable of. You’ve seen it. The plagues, the destruction, the famine! Should we leave him to this world?”

“Exorcise him then! That’s how you banish a demon!”

“And myself with him?”

“Yes!” Neal yelled. “Sacrifice your power with his! Instead, you’re attempting to vanquish him! Demons cannot vanquish other demons, you know that! Only one who shares his blood or a Guardian can...”

Neal trailed away. Things started to click into place in slow motion.

Maleficent had relocated to Storybrooke after his father had bought the house off Eastland. She had taken over Lacey’s training with Regina, despite both witches being fiercely independent.

Jefferson’s appearance. The Hopper had been mad since he had almost splinched himself in between realms, searching for his long dead wife and daughter. He had never stayed in one place long, but he had been here for over a month now. Working for a demon who could help him cross the Veil, to see his family.

Lacey’s trip to the Dark Realm….a demon did not take a guardian to his home, he did not help christian her in the waters of the Lethe….but his father had.

“You’re all using her…” Neal said slowly. “You get power, the witches get a Guardian, and the Church gets a scapegoat.”

His father’s eyes slid away. “She’s in no danger,” he said, but his voice was flat.

“You washed her hands in the river of the Lethe. She’s a Guardian of the Veil now, and you told her what? That it was some purification? Did you tell her she can now slay demons? Did you tell her she should start with you?”

“The Church has decreed her life if she does not clean up this mess,” the Dark One growled. “She summoned him through her own foolishness. I am merely trying to help.”

“But who told the Church? You? Regina?”

“Reul would have figured it out eventually.”

Neal remembered the way his father had always coveted a witch’s soul. The ultimate power. It would have allowed him to stage a coup, but now...now he could kill off the only threat to his power using the very tool he would have used to overthrow ZoZo in the first place.

“Come the Summer Solstice, this will all be over. She will vanquish the threat to her friends and town, the Church will leave well enough alone, and her little coven and her can go their own merry way, and I will reign supreme in this realm and the next.”

“Do you even hear yourself?” Neal asked him incredulously. “You make it sound like a newly trained witch could defeat the first demon.”

“Her coven will protect her.”

“You should be protecting her! She’s your friend!”

The Dark One drew himself up to his full height, teeth bared. “She’s a witch!”

There was a deadly silence. Neal stared at the creature before him, and did not recognize him. He could still remember the day he had met Lacey, the fiery woman who had wrought some kind of change in his father, something that changed the creature he had hated for centuries back into something resembling the kind court jester he had known as a child.

“You don’t mean that, Papa.”

The Dark One swallowed roughly. “What does it matter?” he said, his voice low. “She is a Guardian now. She’ll do her duty by me when she finishes with him. I’m merely being pragmatic.”

“Maybe if you would just tell her how you feel?” Jefferson suggested helpfully from where he stood forgotten.

“I will have this, and nothing anyone can say will stop me,” the Dark One growled, and the magic of his kind twisted in the air, a heavy tension that had been steadily growing. Neal shied away from it. “This is my destiny. This is my birthright!”

“You’re no better than he is,” Neal said sadly, “Rumpelstiltskin.”

Jefferson squeaked but that was the only sound in the room.

The magic dissipated. Where a fearsome creature had stood, in all his glory, there was now just a shrunken figure, staring up at him in astonishment.

“You name me?” his father asked, his voice pitched so low Neal almost had to strain to hear him.

“I name you,” Neal repeated, and he was amazed that his voice sounded so steady. “I name you Rumpelstiltskin and order you back from whence you came.”

There was a bright white flame, it consumed the demon and when it disappeared, as quickly as it had appeared, there was no sign of his father at all.

“Jefferson,” Neal said, letting his eyes sink shut. “We need to go to Storybrooke.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry!
> 
> Remember Neal and his father have a very, very rough relationship. We've seen how far they've come this past year together. But at the heart of their relationship there is still a lot of mistrust, hurt and pain. Neal overreacted because he knows what his father is capable of, knows the mistakes he has made and what they cost Neal. You saw what pride, embarrassment and hurt does to a sleepy immortal. Was he wrong? No, but he wasn't right either. 
> 
> Now as for his father...
> 
> DoDo's (Rumple's) motivations while pretty damning are that of a demon, a confused demon, who as I hope you can see is scared. He's scared of his feelings for the witch, the town, and his son. And everything he's done over the past few months since ZoZo came to town has been to protect himself because he's afraid. I really, really, really cannot stress enough that just because he made BAD CHOICES does not mean you should stop rooting for him or that he meant to hurt anyone (especially Lacey). In his mind, he was doing thing to protect himself from what he assumes will happen when Lacey is finished with Zozo, that like Milah and Cora before her, she'll turn on him.
> 
> I'll try and update again sometime this week. In fact, since I feel so god awful about doing this to you guys, I'll allow you to pick the prompt for the next chapter! The one with the most votes will be Chapter 38. 
> 
> A. A compromising situation  
> B. DoDo and Lacey talk about the future. Lacey thinks about a daughter in a loose, abstract way (not necessarily wanting one)  
> C. DoDo tells Lacey how he feels.


	38. Chapter 38

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> By popular demand: DoDo tells Lacey how he feels.

_May 19, 2016_

Sitting alone in her apartment, Lacey tightened the blanket around her despite the pleasant spring evening as she stared down at her hands. The lines of her palm had been so faded after the waters of Lethe that she doubted even Mal could read them now.

Her future was more uncertain than it had ever been. There would be no tea leaves or crystal balls, no palm readings or dream analysis. As a Guardian of the Veil, her future hung upon her own self interest. How fitting.

The book that had started it all lay beside her, open up to the section on Guardians of the Veil. Duties and responsibilities, how to exorcise demons, work with daemons, etc. etc. She had read it four times since Neal had left, each time finding it more and more useless. It was no wonder witches like Mal and Regina had skirted their duty as Guardians, it was a dangerous, thankless and tiring job that had gone out of fashion somewhere around the Salem Witch Burning era for obvious reasons.

Outside, Mal’s familiar, Dragon began to whinny in annoyance as Pongo barked his usual exuberant greeting, racing back and forth along the fence. Much to Archie’s dismay, his dog had become overly fond of the Shetland pony despite Dragons’ best work to dissuade him otherwise. With a flick of her forefinger, Lacey sound proofed the kitchen window, cutting herself even further from the world outside.

Had her mother been a Guardian at one point in her life, before she had left behind magic and married a man who worked in a factory and grew rosebushes in his backyard? Had she cared about the time honored traditions of the mystic or had she buried her own book, abandoned her familiar and decided to live as a mortal might?

Queenie meowed at her from beside it, head bobbing in concern. Lacey sighed, moving to collect her familiar and move her to her lap. Queenie, who usually disliked cuddling unless it was her idea, went boneless. She curled up into a ball and began to purr as Lacey stroked her idly.

Lacey returned to staring blindly around her apartment. It no longer looked like the sparse studio space it had once been. Now, there were pictures on the wall, a carpet beneath the kitchen table and actual end tables instead of wine boxes. There was a wine rack on the far side of the kitchen, a cat’s corner where her extra trash had once been banished and the pale pink of the bathroom had been liberated from years of mold and mildew.

It was a home.

When had that happened?

Lacey scratched behind her familiar’s ears, Neal’s voice still ringing in her ears when she felt the twist in the air, one she had not felt in her apartment in quite some time.

“You’ve got a lot of nerve showing up here,” she said, but her threat was empty even to her own ears.

“I take it Baelfire has been in touch?”

He sat at the other end of the table, hands crossed demurely on its surface where she could see them. He did not look away or say anything and after a moment, Lacey gestured towards the book on the table between them.

“Do you know why Guardians of the Veil are so rare these days? Why most witches decide to go rogue?”

He did not answer.

“Because,” Lacey continued, finding some hysterical humor lacing her tone, “there’s a rather large percentage who end up dead.”

“Lacey.”

“I mean, I knew that, I read the book. Mal told me to be sure I knew what I was doing, but you…. you encouraged me.”

“If I had not, Reul would have found a way-”

“Reul only found a way because you tipped her off. You and your little pet, Regina.”

A spasm of annoyance crossed his placid features. “Regina is beside the point here.”

“You’re right,” Lacey said. “I’ll deal with her later. This is about you and me right now.”

Queenie’s watched the Dark One, her stunted tail moving slowly in Lacey’s lap. The cat did not move to go to him, despite her usual preference for his company. Lacey took that as a good sign, that she was doing the right thing.

“Neal tried to tell me your true name,” Lacey told him. He winced, which only upset her more. “I declined.”

“You what?”

“I declined,” Lacey repeated. She stood, gently depositing Lacey on the countertop as she pulled the refrigerator door open. She fished around for a moment, around the groceries she now kept stocked, and pulled out a beer bottle from the back. She did not offer one to him.

She leaned up against the fridge, blanket still draped around her shoulders as she struck the cap off. The Dark One remained at the table, a confused look on his scaled face. She had not seen his true face for some time, she had forgotten who he truly was underneath it all. The mask of Gold had done it’s job well.

“But why?” he asked, shaking his head.

Lacey ignored his question. “Do you remember the night we met?”

He nodded, slowly. “You summoned me with blood, tears, and ash.”

“Accidentally,” she clarified.

“Accidentally,” he conceded.

Lacey tapped her foot against the fridge, licking her lip to as she struggled to find the correct words. “You told me...you told me you could not leave until I had made a wish and I told you to-”

“Go do something very colorful involving flamingos and a croquet mallet. I remember.”

“But you stayed and drove me crazy. You turned my life upside down. Nothing I did got rid of you. You just kept turning back up like a bad penny.’

‘And yet…” she paused. “I suddenly had friends. I had people in my life that I cared about, and I was happy.”

Last summer had been a wonderful time in her life. She had only wished that she had realized it at that time.

“Then Sanheim came.”

He made a noise low in his throat, and she pointed her bottle at him to indicate silence. “Now, my best friend is a werewolf, my neighbor is afraid of me, and I’m a…. I’m a witch.”

It had taken her months to come to terms with it. Even today, fully aware of the seven energy points in her body that she could access, she still sometimes couldn’t believe it. A demon as a roommate had been one thing, learning that she was not truly human was something completely different.

“And witches are mortal enemies of demons,” the Dark One reminded her. He looked small when he sat still, and Lacey wondered if that was why he was usually so full of quips and giggles. She had used something similar to distract people from her own smallness, but hers had been a more feminine weapon. “You’ll forgive me for not throwing you a party to celebrate.”

“Why are you even here?” Lacey asked. She was tired, she didn’t need this right now. “Your son comes by, completely unannounced, to tell me you’re dangerous, and a liar. That you’ve been using me and I shouldn’t trust anyone. Do you have any idea what that’s like?”

He didn’t respond.

“I knew,” she said, pausing as her voice broke. “I knew there was something wrong. I just kept telling myself that everything was fine, but…”

“This isn’t about you.”

Lacey gaped at him. “Isn’t about me?” she repeated. “Isn’t about me?”

He shifted uncomfortably. “I have a history with the demon you summoned on Sanheim,” he said.

“Well, fine but leave me out of it!”

“I can’t!”

They were both shouting now and Lacey had to inhale sharply, count to five before she trusted her voice again. “If you aren’t going to be honest with me-”

“How much more honest could I be with you?” he demanded, standing abruptly. “You want to know the truth of it? Fine. I stayed to reap your soul. Those first few months. A witch’s soul would have given me ultimate power and I would have been able to finally take my place as the true leader of my kind. I knew you’d break sooner or later. Everyone does.”

“You know just what to say to a girl.”

“But you didn’t. You refused me at every opportunity, and you were powerful. Powerful enough that a familiar found its way to you despite you having no earthly idea what you truly were. You thought so little of yourself and yet, at the same time, you demanded the world treat you like a queen. It was laughable. You were laughable...and you were fierce and determined and so utterly ignorant to your true potential which even a blind man could see.”

Lacey swallowed, the beer untouched. The Dark One approached her, until he stood directly before her. Queenie hissed, but he didn’t seem to hear it.

“I am not blind,” he told her. “I knew by the summer that you would never give me your soul.”

“Why stay then?” Lacey repeated. “There was nothing here for you.”

“Baelfire,” he said truthfully. “I was finally in a position to understand humans, to learn about them, see what hold they had over my son. I stayed here in this town because...he seemed to like it here. The people were odd but tolerable. For the first time in centuries, I had my son back in my life and then you went and ruined everything.”

“It was a mistake!” Lacey exclaimed, her voice rising. “How was I supposed to know you could summon a demon from a ouija board!”

“That’s not what I meant!” he snapped right back.

“Well, what did you mean then?” Lacey said defensively, crossing her arms over her chest.

“In the past, there has been instances where I have...let my guard down with witches. Both times I came to regret that. I assumed...this time would be no different. When you learned of your birthright, I knew what would happen next.”

Lacey stared at him gobsmacked. “You mean Milah? And what’s her name… Cora? What was her deal?”

He sighed. “This is not the time for that. Suffice to say, I learned my lesson well though. Witches and demons could use each other, but they could not be anything more than reluctant allies. It is simply our natures. I simply chose to ensure I got what I needed out of this...partnership before you realized the truth of that..”

Lacey gaped at him. “You did all this because you thought I was going to turn on you? You...you idiot, we were friends!”

His head snapped up, and he whirled back to her. “Friends?”

“Yea,” Lacey said in annoyance. “I might be a Guardian of the Veil or whatever, but you’re not some crazed demon on the loose. You’re DoDo. You haven’t even reaped a soul the entire year you’ve been here. Believe me, I checked.”

“But I am a demon,” he hissed. “I make deals, I reap souls. This is all still a game to you. You speak of friendship as if it means something.”

There was the tingling of magic in the air, and Lacey checked her own centers, making sure she didn’t accidentally burn her apartment down or alert Mal to the confrontation. No, the magic was emanating from the demon before her, and he didn’t not seem to care.

“I trusted you because you love Neal,” Lacey said softly. “Don’t deny it, I know you do.”

“What does that have to do with anything?”

“Demons can’t love,” Lacey said softly. “Neal told me that the first night I met him.” She pointed at the kitchen table. “He sat there and told me that demons cannot love. It’s why he gave it all up. He didn’t want to lose that ability. So, through all of this,” she gestured between the two of them, “I trusted you above anyone else. Because demons can’t love, and yet somehow you do.”

The Dark One looked stricken, and he took a step backwards as if she had hit him.

“You love your son. Don’t lie and say you don’t because you think you’ve lost him. You haven’t because he loves you too.”

“It’s not as simple as all that,” he said guardedly.

“No,” Lacey agreed. “It’s not. You lied to him. To me. All because you were so convinced that you knew best.”

“Seeing the future does make me a bit of an expert in that regard,” he huffed.

Lacey snorted. “You can’t see my future anymore,” she reminded him, holding up her smoothed palms. “So, try again. What are you so scared of?”

“I am not scared!” he declared, drawing himself up as magic made his hair crackle with static.

“Fine, you’re not scared,” Lacey said, waving a hand to dispel the tension in the air. “You just keep fucking everything up because you’re an idiot.”

He opened his mouth to argue, but then to her surprise, shut it again.

“Well,” Lacey whistled, “this is a first. DoDo speechless.”

“You are incredibly annoying,” he sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Has anyone ever told you that?”

Lacey opened the fridge and pulled out a beer. Without a word, she handed it out to him. For a moment, he wavered before slowly accepting it. “I’m still mad at you,” Lacey told him, pushing past him to the television. “But we need to discuss how we’re going to handle this First Demon thing. I’m not above exorcising you both back to kingdom come, but if he’s as bad as Neal seems to think he is, we should proceed with the original plan.”

“You...You’re going to vanquish him?”

“We are,” Lacey said pointedly, sitting down on the couch. “You’re in this whether you like it or not. First, tell me everything you know about him, and if I think you’re lying, I’m going to call Neal and get that name of yours. See how well you lie then.”

He gingerly joined her, though he sat as far away as possible from her on the couch.

“Okay, the Summer Solstice is in a month, which means we have a lot to do,” Lacey started, pulling out a notebook from underneath the piles of books and magazines on the makeshift coffee table. “Jefferson is safeguarding that gross suitcase but he mentioned a dagger?

Her old roommate was staring at the television with a furrowed brow. Lacey sighed. “Earth to DoDo,” she said, putting her pen down. “Anyone home?”

“I am not very good at this kind of thing,” he said. His shoulders were tight and he looked as if he was in some amount of pain.

Lacey tilted her head at him. “Plotting? I thought that was your whole claim to fame.”

He gave her a dirty look. “No, what I mean is...if you would like to be friends...I cannot promise it will be easy.”

“Oh, I see” Lacey said. She thought for a moment. “Well, if you stop trying to use me as a sacrificial lamb or double cross me in an attempt to take over the mortal realm...then I think we can figure something out.”

“We can?”

Lacey laughed. “Yea,” she said with a small smile. “I think we can. Now, back to how to properly vanquish a demon without getting killed…”

As their small truce fell back into place, they both breathed slightly easier though neither of them would ever admit it. Outside, the winds grew cold and the full moon crept closer. They were not the only ones forming a plan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So thrilled with the response from the last chapter! You guys were so encouraging and I was blown away by the response to DoDo and Neal's big showdown. 
> 
> As you all chose DoDo telling Lacey how he feels, I found that to my surprise, the two of them did not want to stay mad at each other. As you all have noticed, Lacey has been struggling to find her place in all this crazy, and DoDo has been her constant in some odd but meaningful ways and now, she's taking control back of her own destiny. The Lacey we all know and love is finding herself again, and this time with more confidence than she's ever had before. The next few chapters will set up the finale for this "season" and bring these two morons closer than ever.
> 
> And as for the whole "demons can't love thing"...well, we can all guess where that's going. ;D


	39. Chapter 39

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A compromising situation

_May 20th, 2016_

Lacey’s alarm clock went off at a quarter to five.

For the first time in recent history, she did not hit the snooze button. Instead, she rolled out of her bed, and promptly stubbed her toe on her nightstand. Grumbling a curse, she waved the palm of her hand upwards, and the lights flickered to life.

After a quick stop the bathroom, where she avoided the mirror, she hurried back to the kitchen only to find she was out of coffee. “Perfect,” she muttered. In all the confusion of yesterday, she hadn’t gotten down to Sprat’s like she had originally planned. With a roll of her eyes and shrug of her shoulders, she focused on the center right above her tailbone.

It warmed instantly, as if it had been waiting and when she expressed her desire, letting the want of it course through her, she found two espressos fresh from Italy pop into existence, still steaming.

The kitchen window reflected her proud, silly little grin as she reveled in it. Grabbing them off the counter, she hurried out the door, only briefly remembering to grab her jacket as it was raining steadily outside.

Fresh off her moderate success at befriending a demon, Lacey marched straight over to Archie’s house and sat down on the front stoop. Her phone’s clock read 5:38 and the sky was beginning to lighten ever so slightly by the docks. She sipped her own coffee, using a small warming charm on the second one so that it did not cool too quickly.

The rain fell in a steady, comforting pattern and despite her yoga pants growing damp, she did not use a shielding charm. Instead, she tilted her face up into the sky, and let the rain hit her face. It was cool and refreshing and between that and the coffee, she felt more awake than she had ever thought possible before six am.

The noise of someone stirring inside made her stand quickly, turning just in time to catch a very startled Ruby as she yanked open the door. “Morning!” she said cheerfully. She held out the espresso, smiling brightly. “This is for you.”

Ruby stared at her in surprise. Lacey took the opportunity to stare back, noticing the dark shadows under the brunette’s eyes and the pallor of her usually pale skin. Her clothes, usually skin tight, hung off her lanky frame but it was the large scar peeking out from under her three quarter sleeve that drew Lacey’s eye.

Ruby hastily pulled the sleeve down, glaring as she tried to push past her. “Move,” she snapped. “I have to open the diner this morning.”

Lacey, ignoring this dismissal, hurried after her. Ruby did not seem bothered by the rain, her hair seeming to be impervious, beads of water sliding off it while it stayed perfectly dry. Lacey made a mental note to do more research on werewolves traits.

“Take this. It’s your favorite,” Lacey said, hurrying to keep up with Ruby’s longer strides. “Espresso. Bitter. Black. Italian.”

Ruby made a growling noise, but she snatched the cup out of Lacey’s hand. “Fine. Now, go away.”

“Did you know,” Lacey said, ignoring her completely, “the May Moon is known as the Flower Moon because it is thought to be the ideal time to plant flowers? Personally, I think they just ran out of names. November is the Beaver Moon for Christ’s sake-”

Ruby abruptly stopped, right before the Nolan’s old house with the For Sale sign stuck by the godawful windmill. “What do you want?” she demanded.

“Nothing!” Lacey replied, taking a sip of her own sweetened beverage. “Just thought you could use a coffee. I know you have a double shift today and knew you probably didn’t sleep well last night.”

“No thanks to you.”

Lacey resisted the urge to lash back. The Full Moon was tomorrow night, and Ruby would be feeling the influence of it already, hence her night in Archie’s werewolf resistant guest room. Arguing would not be helpful, no matter how satisfying it would be.

“Okay, fine,” Lacey sighted. “Blame me. Is it helping?”

Ruby’s lips disappeared into a thin line as she clenched her jaw. “Maybe.”

“Well, you were there for me the night my life turned upside down,” Lacey reminded her. “You had just been attacked, magically healed or tortured, I’m still not quite sure which, and you still were the only one in the room that wasn’t yelling at me.”

Neal had been beside himself, too furious with his father and her to think straight. He had of course apologized a week or so later, and so now, Lacey was taking a cue from his book. He had nagged her until she had finally given in, and forgiveness had come easily when she realized he truly wanted to help her in whatever way he could. She hoped Ruby would do the same.

“So, it hurt when you disappeared off the face of the Earth,” Lacey admitted. “It was easier to feel betrayed, wallow in self pity and not think about might be going through. If I had known-”

“You’d have done what?” Ruby asked. “Wave your magic wand and fix everything?”

Lacey shot her a look. “You know very well there’s no wands.”

The rain was still coming down steadily, and Ruby turned on her heel and started walking again. She did not protest when Lacey followed but she did not slow down either. They emerged at the corner by Sprat’s, to find the town center still blissfully asleep.

“I would have done everything I could to help,” Lacey told her. “You know I would have.”

“What were you supposed to do?” Ruby muttered. “You just found you were a witch. All that stuff Neal told us... I was lucky to be alive and I plan on staying that way.”

Lacey faltered. “You registered with the Council.”

“Yea, well,” Ruby shrugged. “Mayor Mills made it clear if I didn’t, I would be...how did she put it? Oh yea, ‘be put down like a rabid dog’.”

There was a hurt anger in Ruby’s voice that reminded Lacey of a trapped animal. She didn’t dare voice that out loud though. Ruby looked like she might just hit her if provoked.

“Look, I’m sorry, okay. I’m here, I’m trying to make this right and if you need anything, just let me know, okay?”

“I don’t need anything from you!” Ruby exclaimed, twisting around to confront her. Lacey stumbled to a stop. Even in flats, Ruby towered over her. It had been one of the reasons Lacey had started wearing sky high heels in the first place. “I want you to leave me alone!”

“Too bad!” Lacey shouted back. “You’re my friend!”

“Not anymore!”

Lacey refused to believe that. They had been friends since Lacey had stumbled into this one horse town with a crummy GED and a letter of acceptance to the local community college. Ruby had been a breath of fresh air, and they had become fast friends at a particularly enjoyable (underage friendly) happy hour.

Lacey stood her ground. “I’ve got plans to remodel the apartment next to mine for you. You can move out of the Inn, and you’ll be safe there. Granny can stop worrying about you, you can stop destroying Archie’s guest room and you’ll have two witches on hand during a full moon. I might not be able to cure you yet but-”

“Are you listening to me?” Ruby demanded. “I don’t want you in my life! You-You-Witch!”

Lacey scoffed. “Was that supposed to be an insult or?”

Ruby barely heard her. “I was fine with the whole demon boyfriend thing-”

“Dodo is not my boyfriend-”

“And I stuck around even after his half breed son told us all about how some Council could have us killed for even knowing about them and I held your hand when they told you that you were a witch- and what did I get for all that?”

She pulled her sleeve up and thrust her scarred arm under Lacey’s nose. “I get this. Every month it fades away, and then comes back to remind me of what I am now. I’m cursed according the Council, a god forsaken werewolf! Do you know if I turn anyone even accidentally not only do I get killed but so will Granny and Archie and anyone else I was considered close with? It’s a warning to the next lucky loser who gets their life ruined by some stupid witch!”

Lacey’s resolve not to argue snapped. “You opened the door!” she shouted. “You wanted to play Ouija! Hell, I should be mad at you!” She lifted her palm up and shoved it in Ruby’s face. “I’m a Guardian of the Veil now which is just a fancy title for scapegoat! I’ve got to clean up the mess you helped make and will most likely die in the attempt! So, excuse me for trying to make peace with you before I get brutally murdered by some crazed demon and his evil minions from hell!”

Ruby was gaping at her.

No, not at her. Something behind her.

Lacey twisted around to see Mary Margret, eyes wide, standing just behind them. She was wearing athletic clothes, probably out for a morning run. Lacey’s heart constricted painfully, as she tried to calculate how long she could have possibly been standing there.

“Mary Margaret?” Lacey said. “It’s summer break, what are you doing up? It not even seven yet!”

“Habit,” the other woman said shakily. “I can’t sleep past six anymore…”

Ruby swallowed. “Did you...we...we were just...talking.”

“Oh?” Mary Margaret chirped. “How nice!”

It was painfully obvious that she had heard every single word. She was looking back and forth between them like a deer caught in the headlights.

“Go open the diner, Lucas,” Lacey sighed.

Ruby nodded. “Um, good seeing you Mary Margaret,” she said lamely. “And uh...thanks for the coffee, Lace.”

And before Lacey could reply, she turned and hurried away, leaving Lacey with a very nervous school teacher. “Look,” Lacey started, struggling for the right words. “That wasn’t what it sounded like….”

“You’re a witch.”

“Uh…”

Mary Margaret sighed. “No wonder Regina’s been insufferable lately. She kept asking about my little friend, I just assumed she meant David.”

It was Lacey’s turn to look surprised. “Regina?”

“Yea,” Mary Margaret grimaced. “She’s my stepmother.”

Lacey held her hand up. “Wait, what?”

Nearby, a door slammed shut as someone hurried out into the rain. Around them, the street was coming to life. Mary Margaret pulled her windbreaker tighter around her, sparring nervous looks over her shoulder. “We shouldn’t be talking about this out here. The Council isn’t too fond of public meetings.”

“The Council? Wait, so you know about ...everything?” Lacey asked, ignoring her discomfort.

Mary Margaret sighed and nodded guiltily. “I found out when I was a kid...I saw Regina doing magic and I was curious and went snooping and...well…”

“Holy shit,” Lacey breathed. “You’re Regina’s stepdaughter? How? Tell me everything. Did she always wear the pants suits? Oh god, the eighties. You knew her during the _Working Girl_ era, tell me everything.”

“Shush!” Mary Margaret said, moving closer to her. “Someone will hear you!”

Lacey shook her head. “Holy shit. Holy shit.”

“I need to get back, David will be waking up soon.”

“David knows,” Lacey told her quickly. “Not everything but enough.”

Mary Margaret groaned. “Oh, this is bad. This is really, really bad. She’ll think I told him!”

“He’s living with a demon,” Lacey told her. “Pretty sure he figured it out on his own.”

“Gold?” Her eyes grew huge. “Gold’s a demon?”

Lacey nodded. “Yup.”

“Not good,” Mary Margaret moaned. “Not good!”

“It’s okay!” Lacey assured her, trying not to laugh at the absurdity of all this. “He likes David. They get on surprisingly well.”

“I’ve got to go,” she said, shaking her head as if to clear it. “I can’t believe…”

“Me neither,” Lacey told her. “I just found out last Halloween.”

The other woman’s shoulders slumped as she exhaled. “This is ….big.”’

Lacey nodded. “I’ll stop by later tonight okay? We can talk.”

“I’d like that,” Mary Margaret admitted. A mischievous grin appeared on her face. “I can show you some old pictures I think you’d like.”

Lacey smiled for the first time that morning. “Have I told you lately how glad I am that we’re friends?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can't stop, won't stop. 
> 
> Or I'm just really in the zone with this crazy little town and you guys reap the benefits. 
> 
> Lacey's on the path to finding herself again, and getting the people she cares about back in her life. I'm thrilled she and Ruby are on the path to making up, and super stoked that MM and David are now fully in the know. It's going to be fun to have Snowing in the mix. Now, all we have to do is get Archie back on board. 
> 
> So, I've got three prompts left to fill and then...well then i have nothing. So, if you have a prompt for this verse, please go over to tumblr and drop me an ask with your prompt. It can be as simple as one word, as detailed as a paragraph or as vague as a character's name. Plenty of story lines still to discover (Whale, Leroy, Reul, Colette, Cora... ) and can't wait to see you guys soon!


	40. Chapter 40

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Neal finds out Lacey kissed Gold

May 20th, 2016

“Oh, darling, there you are!”

Neal winced. It was just slightly past noon on a weekday and he had foolishly thought his quick trip to the kitchen would go unnoticed. “Auntie,” he greeted, turning away from the microwave sheepishly. “I didn’t know you were up.”

Cruella sailed up to him with a diabolical grin, arms already reaching out to embrace him. He leaned forward to allow her to kiss both cheeks. “Oh, dear,” Cruella sighed, nudging him out of the way to peer into the microwave. “Is that leftovers?”

“Auntie, there’s nothing wrong with leftovers,” Neal reassured her. 

“Bae, sweetheart, see reason,” Cruella said with a skeptical little laugh. “I keep a chef for this exact reason!”

“Auntie,” Neal sighed, just as the microwave beeped happily. “It’s fine.”

“Hmm,” Cruella snorted, eyeing the steaming plate in disgust. “How’s your father doing?”

Neal faltered. “What?”

Pretending to ignore his surprise, Cruella heaved a dramatic sigh as she gazed around the kitchen. “Where is my staff? Here I am dying for a drink and they’ve all left me to die of thirst. Isn’t that just too cruel? Betrayed by my very own help. As if I don’t know perfectly well, they’re all downstairs hiding in the pantry.” She made a little noise of delight. “Perhaps I’ll surprise them. Remind them that I don’t take lightly to being disappointed…or lied to.” 

Neal dejectedly set his plate down. It looked like lunch was going to have to wait. “Auntie,” he said. “Didn't I mention Papa stopped by last week?”

Cruella paused in her inspection of the refrigerator's contents, lifting her heavily stenciled eyebrow. “No, I don’t think you did, darling.”

Neal nodded, pulling out one of the stools bunched around the kitchen island. “He couldn’t stay long. In fact, he's not welcome back and he knows it.”

Cruella abandoned the fridge to join him, propping her chin up on her hands as she leaned over the counter towards him. “Do tell! What mischief has that naughty boy been up to now?”

Neal grimaced. While he was fond of his godmother, he knew her well enough not to trust her interest as being anything but chaotic. His father and Cruella had an interesting relationship, it had been one of the very reasons he had gone to her back in the twenties in the first place. No one else could annoy his father quite like Cruella De Ville. 

“His usual,” Neal grumbled. “I took care of it.”

Cruella widened her eyes, leaning forward slightly on the countertop. “Oh, my little Baelfire, did you do something naughty?” She showed her teeth in a vicious grin. “You know how much I love it when you’re bad.”

Neal chose to ignore that particular sentiment. He instead moved to the small minibar in the far corner of the kitchen. “Gin and tonic?” he asked, throwing her a quick look over his shoulder.

“Da, darling,” Cruella murmured, picking distractedly at some errant beads on her gown. “Well, if you aren’t going to tell me, I’ll just have to ask Jefferson.”

“Leave Jefferson out of this,” Neal said as he poured the gin. “He’s got enough on his plate as is.”

“You’re absolutely zero fun,” his godmother sighed, but she took the offered drink from him happily. “Can’t you give me just a little hint?”

Neal began to make his own drink, knowing he wasn’t going to make it out of this conversation without one. “It has to do with Storybrooke,” he said flatly. 

Cruella’s humor vanished. “Storybrooke?” she said distastefully. “Why in heaven’s name do you care about that backwater hole?”

He actually couldn't quite say. Maybe it was because the quaint Main Street always smelled faintly of the sea. Or that the people were simple and odd but in a good way. He missed the secluded charm of old towns like Storybrooke, and had even briefly contemplated moving there. Before this whole fiasco with his father that is. Now, it was probably destined to be wiped off the map entirely. “It’s actually a nice little town,” Neal said.

“It is not,” Cruella replied. “Nasty little town full of nasty little people.”

It was the subtle way she shifted in her chair, the finger going up to tap against the rim of her glass and the way her eyes hooded as if protecting some secret. 

Neal groaned. “Auntie, you didn’t.”

“Now, don't be upset," Cruella replied. "It was just a little pit stop."

“When?” Neal demanded. “Why?”

“You left me all alone and I was worried!” she exclaimed in a wounded tone. Her shoulders deflated ever so slightly, and she swung her blue eyes to him. It was a masterful performance, but he had seen better. He was the son of the ultimate performer after all. “It was dreadful,” she shuddered. “Couldn’t leave fast enough. Had to burn the clothes I wore and everything.”

Neal eyed her warily. “You didn’t...do anything, did you?”

Her hand fluttered to her breast but her other hand kept a tight grip on her drink. “What are you accusing me of, Baelfire?”

Holding his hands up, Neal attempted to make peace. It was never a good thing when she used his true name. “I was just asking,” he said quickly. 

“Well, no, as a matter of fact,” she said saucily, tipping her gin back. “Your father was being particularly frigid and that little witch of his-”

Neal chuckled. “Lacey would skin you alive for calling her ‘his’ anything, Auntie."

Cruella pouted her cherry red lips at him, pushing her white streaked bangs out of her face as she regarded him over the island. “Well, she certainly seemed to be his when I met her."

"Doesn't sound like Lacey," he said pointedly. "Besides, pretty sure she's as done with him as I am at this point. He was just using her like he always does.”

"Serves her right," Cruella said haughtily. "I knew something was wrong. The way she was hanging all over him, kissing him in front of guests-”

Neal choked on his vodka water. “She- she what?”

Lacey would never.

Would she?

Cruella’s eyes lit up as she gazed wickedly at him from over the rim of her glass. “Oh, didn’t you know?” she cooed, looking positively delighted. His godmother had always had a penchant for being in the know on things, and toying with those who wanted the information. “Yes, bold as brass! I was in the middle of a conversation with your father, when the little trollop strolled in, sat in his lap and began to salivate all over him like some twisted little lapdog. Witches and their appetites, disgusting.”

Neal was quite sure his face had gone green. 

Cruella continued gleefully, misunderstanding his discomfort entirely. “Oh, Is that why you’re so cross with your Papa?” she asked. “He’s sleeping with the woman you’ve had your eye on?”

Neal swallowed thickly. Lacey had been rather calm about the whole revelation the other day. Upset, yes, but she had lacked her usual wrath. If they were...together-had she been more brokenhearted than angry? 

Neal winced. He couldn’t even picture it. It was too weird. Cora had been one thing- a witch as powerful and as darkly twisted as his own father- but Lacey?

“Lacey’s just a friend,” he said, taking a large swig of his cocktail. “That’s all.”

“Hmm,” Cruella said idly, leaning over to pluck an olive idly out the barrack. “Well, she might very well be on her way to your stepmama, my little one.”

Neal smiled weakly. In his mind he was replaying the last few times he had been with the two of them. Lacey had always seemed fondly exasperated with his father, sometimes more exasperated than fond but still. As for Rumplestiltskin, he had admitted to him that he was just using her.

There was nothing to worry about Neal told himself as Cruella began to loudly complain about there being pits in her olive. Nothing at all.

And yet… now that Cruella mentioned it…

They did spend an awful amount of time together for two creatures that proclaimed to hate each other….and they had been practically living together. He had assumed it was his father’s twisted sense of humor mixed with his determination to get her soul but what if…

And hadn’t Jefferson said something the other night during the fight? Something about there being more? But there couldn’t be more, he thought to himself. Not anymore. Not if his father had been using her-

"Neal, darling, you're not even listening to me!" Cruella complained loudly, breaking him out of his reverie. "Just like your father sometimes, I swear."

"Sorry, Auntie," Neal mumbled, standing slowly. "I just...I have to -" He lifted a hand mindlessly, almost unable to help the mental images in his head now. "Go take a memory potion or something."

"Poor darling," she simpered, but her smile was bright. "I could talk to your father for you if you'd like."

"No, no, need, thank you, Auntie," he said thickly. "I'll just...maybe go back to my room and lie down for a bit."

"You do that, honey," she cooed before hopping up. "I might just pop downstairs and see what the staff is up to."

Before he could stop her, she had swirled through the pantry door leading downstairs, a predatory grin on her face. Neal sighed, reached for his drink and tossed it back.

Lacey...and the Dark One?

Gasping as the strong liquor disappeared down his throat, Neal slammed the tumbler back on the counter just as Jefferson breezed in, his wild hair and twitchy eyes mussed as if he had just gotten out of bed. "What are we celebrating then?" he said happily, rubbing his hands together in delight. 

"Was my father sleeping with Lacey?" Neal demanded, barely waiting for Jefferson to finish speaking. "Well? Was he?"

Jefferson shot him a look like he was crazy. It was bit disconcerting as it was coming from the mad hatter himself. "Course not," he said. "What kind of crazy idea is that?"

Neal sighed, collapsing back to the table. "Sorry, it was Auntie, she just got under my skin and I thought-" he laughed in relief. "Stupid, right?'

"Very," Jefferson said in agreement, moving to rummage around the fridge. "Why, they're not due to sleep together until later this summer. August if my memory serves me right."

There was a rather large crash as Neal fell off his stool, but Jefferson ignored it. He was too busy trying to find the leftovers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, there's that then!
> 
> Tips of being a time hopper, you guys.
> 
> As for Neal, he's still firmly in his "I was right" camp and is still PO'ed at the old man. 
> 
> Except now, he has to wonder if he knows the whole story.


	41. Chapter 41

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DoDo and Lacey talk and dance in the rain

_Friday June 3, 2016_

“Come on,” Lacey groaned good-naturedly, tugging on DoDo’s arm. “We got plenty.”

The demon ignored her, flicking her away with his clawed talons. Lacey dropped his arm, opting instead to collapse beside him, peering up at the sky above them. No stars or moon shone down on them, which made tonight the perfect night for collecting azaleas at the wood’s edge.

DoDo had been running low on them for his own personal supply, though he was tight lipped on what exactly he planned to use them for. It had been steadily drizzling all evening, meaning the town of Storybrooke had retired early and no soul but themselves had bothered to range out into the quiet wooded hills.

Lacey checked her impenetrable spell, finding a few frayed edges here and there where the rain was wearing through the magic. It would be easy to fix, but she chose not to. Instead, she reached out with her chest’s center, and pulled DoDo’s own shielding charm down around his ankles.

Immediately, the demon wrenched his face out of the bushes, looking to the sky as the soft rain began to hit his scaly skin. He looked incredulously upset, glaring up at the storm clouds as if they had personally wronged him. Lacey couldn’t help but giggle at this wounded look, and DoDo swung his attention towards her. With a snap of his fingers, he banished her own spell just as easily.

In the next second, Lacey felt the drops on her scalp, but it felt pleasant in the summer heat. Without pause, she stripped off her tank top, grateful she had not changed from her bikini that she had worn to Ariel’s pool earlier. Tilting her head back, she looked up at the sky as she leaned back on her elbows, smiling at the sensation of the summer ain.

DoDo seemed less than pleased, but he did not replace his spell. “Sentimentality,” he grumbled, nudging her feet aside so he could move further along the large bush. Lacey shook her head, and without thinking, reached up and pulled him down towards her.

Being of course much too respectable to squawk at this undignified action, DoDo instead wound up on his ass, covered in azelea blossoms. Lacey lost it at this, reaching out to pluck a few from her own basket to stick them into his now frizzing curls. He eyed her in annoyance, but seemed to realize there was little to do to stop her. “There,” she declared, returning to her own spot in the grass. “A flower crown for the rightful king of the Dark Land.”

He scoffed at her before looking around at the crushed blossoms surrounding them. “You’ve just ruined my entire night’s work,” he said in annoyance, but he did not move to stand up either. “I’ll be here all night at this rate.”

“What else do you have to do?” Lacey asked, crossing her ankles. She lowered down into the prickly grass, putting her arms underneath her head as she blinked away the rain.

“Not catching pneumonia would be a decent start,” he grumbled.

“Demons don’t catch pneumonia,” Lacey reminded him. “Lay down. Relax.”

He didn’t lay down, nor did he move to stand up again. “What is it about storms that you witches like so much?” he asked himself with a toss of his wet curls. A few flowers Lacey had placed fell into his lap, and he plucked one up with his black claws.

Lacey shrugged. “I like the feeling before a storm,” she admitted. “The tension of something building and building and then when it breaks over you...the rain is just the fulfillment of a promise.”

“Now, she likes poetry.”

Lacey ignored him. “I don’t know, it’s just...nice to get to stay inside on rainy days. If it’s sunny and raining it’s like this whole new world of rainbows and puddles and when it’s dark and stormy, it just feels natural to slow down, relax and unwind.”

“Storms used to be feared,” he said bitterly. “The bravest souls knew lighting could burn down their houses, winds sinks their ships or rain chill them into death’s embrace.”

“Who’s the poet now?”

He grumbled something incoherent but it just made her grin wider. The rain continued to fall, coating her bare stomach and collarbones, sliding off her bare legs and soaking through the denim of her shorts. It felt cleansing and freeing and wonderful.

“You talk to Neal yet?”

His shoulders tightened, and for a moment, Lacey thought he was going to close off. Yet, to her amazement, his frame relaxed, bit by bit before he sighed. “No,” he admitted. “Jefferson said he’d send word when he’s ready to listen to reason.”

“You mean forgive you for being a bastard.”

DoDo shot her a long suffering look, which paired with the azalea blossoms in his hair made him look ridiculous. She burst into giggles again, which only made her companion scowl at her. “How much wine did you have at dinner?” he demanded. He gestured towards her outfit with a distasteful wave of his hand. “You’re acting like a schoolgirl.”

“It is summer,” Lacey reminded him. “Come on, let your hair down and just enjoy it for a minute.”

He blinked down at her. As she grinned up at him, there was an odd little pang in her chest and for a moment, she thought perhaps her heart center was acting up but there was no telltale hint of magic.

“What?” DoDo asked, growing alert. “What is it?”

“Nothing,” Lacey said distractedly, placing a hand over her heart. “I just had a weird feeling…”

“Come on,” he decided. He clambered to his feet, dusting flowers off his front and wet grass from his back. Lacey lay there, staring up at the sky as her heart beat a steady rhythm against her fingertips. What had that been about?

A scaled hand reached out to her, and Lacey abandoned her inner musings to accept it. DoDo pulled her to her feet, already heading back towards the bush. “Complete waste of time,” he muttered as the he began to return to picking the blossoms from the bushes. “Stargazing on a cloudy night.”

Lacey didn’t bother to argue with him. She moved towards the woods, idly running a hand over the azalea bush, feeling the petals whisper against her fingertips. Her hair was damp but not soaked through, the soft rain more of a mist than a deluge. Her centers were buzzing quietly under her skin, magic so nearby that she could almost reach out and touch it in the air around her despite both her and DoDo’s inactivity.

His basket was back in hand, blossoms disappearing into it carefully. His curls were frizzy and wild, and the rain beaded on his scales like condensation. Another reason that they had to pick the azaleas at night, there could no be no artifice, no glamours or potions when they were gathered. It would influence their natural powers, their natural toxicity heightened until they were of no use but deadly poison.

“Do you hear it?” he asked her, reaching for a blossom just out of his reach.

“Do I hear what?” Lacey asked, listening harder.

“The music.”

Lacey opened her mouth with a haughty retort on her tongue when the wind shifted and suddenly she could hear it. There was a familiar tune on the wind, one that she would expect on the radio or in the Rabbit Hole, but this version was different. More earthy.

“Is that Credence Clearwater Revival?” Lacey asked in astonishment.

DoDo chuckled, but did not pause. “Wood spirits enjoy classical rock as much as anyone,” he told her with a glint in his eye.

Lacey laughed, and began to sway. The song was low, but it seemed to grow louder as she moved, and she laughed again, spinning faster and faster in a tight circle, her head thrown back towards the sky. The haunting melody grew louder with each spin until she could feel it in her blood, her own heartbeat adding the beat to the ethereal echoes of the wood sprites instrument.

“Careful,” DoDo snapped as she nearly collided into him. “If you ruin this basket too, I’ll send you back home and you can go back to being bored.”

Even now, faced with a crotchety demon with his glowing golden eyes and slightly abred teeth, she felt a giggle escape her. She had not laughed this much in forever. She clapped a hand to her mouth, eyes dancing as DoDo sighed dramatically. “You’re not going to leave me alone until I entertain you, are you?” he asked her, lowering the basket.

Lacey shook her head. She reached out a hand. “Come on, dance with me,” she suggested. She swayed invitingly, bobbing her head about as the music swelled louder. “Their next song choice could be Rains in Africa and I know how much you hate that one.”

He twitched his nose at her. “If I dance, you’ll let me go back to work?”

Lacey nodded, twirling in another circle before reaching out with both hands towards him.

Down in the valley, Storybrooke slumbered on as the rain masked the sounds of the wood sprites flutes and whistles, the good natured grumbling of a demon and the pleased carefree laughter of a witch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short and Sweet
> 
> Thanks to Anon who submitted this because just last Friday I had a magical evening with a bunch of friends singing and dancing in the rain at a beer fest. I was alone (break ups = zero fun) but I found to my utter delight that I was okay. Rain was falling, music was playing (toto actually!) and me and a bunch of my friends were happy and okay and alive and it was wonderful. Easily one of the top memories of this year if not my entire twenties so this was fun to write. I took a lot of the joy of dancing in the rain with friends and hope it came across between these two losers. 
> 
> Here's the version of the song I found closest to what I was imagining.  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8vapNu_N1bI
> 
> Next time: Time to learn more about Cora!


	42. Chapter 42

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lacey learns more about Cora

_June 6, 2016_

Lacey swirled the last of her wine around in her glass as the sun began to set. She sat upon the rickety back porch steps, enjoying a rare moment of quiet. Her phone was upstairs, her mind was at peace, and for once, the looming summer solstice did not feel so pressing. Dragon stood nearby, snorting noisily as he munched through the apple core Lacey had brought as a peace offering. Invisible behind the fence beside him, Pongo whined.

As much as Lacey wanted to, she did not move to comfort him. Archie was still not speaking to her, even if Ruby had thawed slightly since their morning coffee talk. Lacey had been sneaking Pongo dog toys stuffed full of peanut butter whenever she brought Dragon a treat and while her neighbor hadn’t demanded her to stop, he had made a point to toss the toys back over the fence.

However, Pongo did not understand this. He continued to whine pitifully, knowing full well she was still on the other side of the fence. “Pongo, stop, honey” Lacey said in exasperated affection. “You know I can’t come pet you.”

“Course you could.” Mal joined her, handing her a bottle of beer as she sat down on the porch steps beside her. “It’s a simple spell.”

“It’s not about being able to do it,” Lacey said. “It’s about if I whether or not I should.”

Mal tsked at her. “He knows he lives next door to two witches in a town run by a witch, if he has an issue with magic, he can take his little sideshow on the road.”

Lacey finished her wine, setting the glass into the grass at their feet. “He doesn’t have a problem with magic. Just me. And he’s a therapist, Mal, not some snake oil peddler.”

Mal made a rude gesture. Lacey hid her smile behind her beer. The Seer did not have much faith in the concept of psychology, and refused to acknowledge it as anything but a sham. They both watched as Dragon meandered over to the fence. The Shetland pony often pretended to disdain the neighboring dalmatian, but it was growing increasingly apparent the little horse enjoyed the company.

“Where’s your familiar?” Mal asked her, glancing around. “Not like her to miss a chance to be outside.”

“She’s around here somewhere,” Lacey told her. “Probably halfway to the beach by now.”

Mal frowned. “You shouldn’t let her roam around right now. It’s not safe.”

Lacey fixed her with a look. “You have a Shetland Pony outside all hours of the day and night. If Dragon’s still standing, I’m fairly certain Queenie will be just fine.”

At hearing his name, Dragon’s ears flickered and he whinnied petulantly. “Now, now, precious,” Mal said soothingly. “Ignore the little witch.”

“Stop with the little witch thing,” Lacey grumbled. “I’m a Guardian now, if you don’t remember.”

In a smooth grab, Mal snatched Lacey’s free hand, flipping up to face the sky. The palm was smooth, with no lines or wrinkles, just pale milky white skin untouched by sun or age. Lacey closed her fingers into a fist, and Mal released it gingerly. “No need to be upset, little one,” Mal said softly. “It’s been a long time since I’ve seen a clear palm. It’s soothing to behold.”

Lacey snorted. “Says the witch who was more than happy to sacrifice me for the greater good.”

Mal shrugged. “I have not lived for centuries because of my kindness.”

“No,” Lacey said softly. “No witch does it seems.”

Mal gave her an appraising look. The sun glinted off Archie’s roof, and Lacey could not look over at her without squinting. Instead, she kept her gaze off into the east, watching as night crept closer.

“I am not apologizing to you,” Mal said quietly. “I will however renew my offer to train you. The solstice is fast approaching.”

“I don’t need your help, Mal,” Lacey said brusquely. “You or Regina’s.”

“I didn’t realize Madam Mayor had reached out to you.”

Lacey cracked a smile. “She hasn’t. Figure she knows better than to try.” A smile spread across her face as she remembered her brief conversation with her friend the other morning. “Hey, did you know Regina’s a stepmother?”

“Course I do,” Mal said haughtily. “I’ve known Regina since she was born. I sent her a wedding gift.”

“Course you did,” Lacey mumbled through a drink. “I keep forgetting you’re as old as the hills.”

Mal smiled, her slightly pointed teeth peeking out. Her blonde hair was twisted up with pens, curls breezing about her face. “Not as old as Balor,” Mal said, using her own particular name for DoDo. “In fact, there was much speculation of Regina’s paternage. Many thought he himself was her sire.”

Lacey twisted around, shielding her eyes to peer over at Mal. “Wait, what?”

Mal smirked. “Oh, yes. He was obsessed with Cora. If she had been a different sort of witch, I’m sure the church would have stepped in sooner than they did.”

Lacey finished her beer quickly, reaching down to snag her now full glass of wine. The perks of magic were sometimes overwhelmingly wonderful. The sound of a door opening next door and Pongo’s playful bark signaled Archie was home, and she cast a look over the fence to see if she could spot him in the doorway.

Mal, realizing she was losing her audience, continued without further prompting. “Hasn’t the Dark One ever mentioned his past lovers before?”

Lacey twisted her lips in a grimace. “Not that I want to know anything about his sex life but yea, I know about Neal’s mother,” she admitted. “Made a deal for a heir, magic took her life for his, etc.”

“MIlah was nothing compared to Cora,” Mal said conspiratorially. Her eyes grew hazy and distant as the past came to meet her. “Regina takes after her mother in many ways, but she lacks that...unique blend of self preservation and ruthlessness that made Cora so formidable.”

Lacey despite herself was curious. Purely because of Regina. “Tell me about her,” Lacey decided.

Mal gave her a wicked look. “I’m sure Regina wouldn’t appreciate that. Nor would the Dark One.”

Lacey sipped her wine innocently. “You wouldn’t have brought her up if you didn’t want to tell me,” Lacey pointed out.

Mal raised her glass in acknowledgement. “You remind me of her a bit too,” she said.

“Thanks, I think?” Lacey replied uncertainly.

Regina was all hot rage, and vengeance. For a politician she was quick to act, ruthless to a fault and unable to distinguish self preservation from self interest. As a witch, she was insatiable, taking everything she wanted as if it was her right. It was small wonder she had been satisfied with a town mayorship instead of a world leader. What had her mother been like?

“No, no,” Mal hastened to add. “Not your personalities, but something….something more inherent.”

“Such as?” Lacey prompted. “She liked wine with breakfast too?”

Mal laughed. “I’m certain she would not say no to it. She was a woman of appetite. Why, she was one of _les grandes horizontales_.”

“Careful, Mal. That’s my mother you’re talking about.”

Lacey jumped to her feet, as the Mayor appeared from around the building. Her arms were crossed over her formidable jacket, glaring at both of them as the sunset gave her a fiery halo. Mal held up another beer in greeting.

“What are you doing here?” Lacey asked crossly. “No one invited you.”

“You’re discussing my mother,” Regina shot back. “Loudly, I might add. Besides, this place is condemned. I’m well within my rights to evict you on seven health code ordinances alone.”

“Play nice, children,” Mal said pleasantly from the stoop. “Watch for Dragon’s droppings, Regina. He’s not used to having people trespassing through the yard.”

Regina snorted, but Lacey enjoyed watching her pick her way through the grass to them. Regina took the offered beer, sighed, and with a twist of the cap, transformed it into what smelled like tequila. “What lies are you spreading about my family now, Mal?”

“I simply mentioned your mother had some things in common with our little witch here.”

Regina smiled, ignoring Lacey’s glare. “You mean about having the Dark One wrapped around their little finger?”

“You weren’t even a twinkle in your father’s eye when Balor was Cora’s patron,” Mal said dismissively. “My, the trouble those two got into!”

“They were lovers during the Second French Empire,” Regina added helpfully. “Before my mother threw him over for my father, Prince Napoleon.”

Trying not to picture Regina as Neal’s half sister, Lacey focused instead on the latter half of that statement. “Prince?” Lacey said with a quizzical look. “I thought Napoleon was the Emperor?”

“His nephew,” Mal supplied. “Regina here is descended from obscurity on her mother’s side and the royal house of Bonaparte on her father's.”

Regina wore a look of smug superiority. She raised her right hand, a small golden sigil ring showing an eagle facing to the right.

“How lovely,” Lacey muttered under her breath. “Explains a lot.”

Regina’s eyes narrowed at her but Mal continued on heedlessly. Seers were prone to talking, especially when it came to the past or future. It was the present, Lacey noticed, in which they had problems. “Cora was very famous in her day for her beauty and her lovers,” Mal said,” but she would never have been anything if it wasn’t for Balor.”

“Ladies.” Lacey smiled as both Regina and Mal winced. DoDo appeared out of the dark hallway of the apartment building, plopping down beside Mal with a shrill little giggle. “You called?”

“Three times, Mal,” Regina groaned. “You know better than to say his name three times.”

“It wasn’t as if I used blood, ash and tears,” Mal snapped back, rising to her feet. Dragon snorted recklessly, ears flat back on his head as he glared at DoDo from the yard.

Regina sighed, waving her drink away. “You and your dramatics,” she grumbled. “We were having a perfectly nice chat. Your little pet was in no danger.”

“I know, I wasn’t in any danger,” Lacey said. “I was just with you two.”

Mal and Regina ignored this jibe, still glaring at DoDo. “Run along back to whence you came,” Mal said. “You’re blocking the door.”

DoDo stood, and with a grandiose bow, bent in two. Mal ignored him, sweeping past him into the dark hall. Dragon snorted again, moving further away into the tall shadows where his small stable bed had been constructed. Regina stood, her finger thoughtfully on her chin as she surveyed them both.

“Mother would have despised you,” she said calmly to Lacey, as if discussing the weather. “Idealistic, impetuous, and -”

“If you are about to say idiotic-”

“Intoxicated,” Regina finished smugly.

“Run along, Regina,” DoDo said smoothly. “Your little pet is waiting for you.”

Regina’s eyes flashed. “I’m going,” she said curtly. “Only because I have little interest in being a witness to whatever travesty is about to occur.”

With that, she swung around and marched through the grass, her heels sinking slightly in the soft ground. Lacey could not resist one last jab. “Hey Regina!” The Mayor twisted around, and Lacey smiled as she inched one particular fresh dropping a little to the left of where it had been sitting in the grass. “Remember to watch out for Dragon droppings!”

The Mayor gave a thin lipped smile, and turned, only to step directly into the recently shifted dung. With a furious growl, she snapped her fingers and disintegrated the entire offense thing, and Lacey had to resist a giggle.

“Childish,” DoDo said dully, but he sat back down, patting the seat beside him. Lacey moved to sit, offering him her glass. He took it, and Lacey conjured another one into her hand, leaning back until her shoulders touched DoDo’s calves.

“Cora, huh?” Lacey said calmly, watching as the last of the sun began to dip beneath the horizon.

“Cora,” DoDo sighed. “A beautiful woman, with a thirst for power and more than a small talent for it.”

“That’s not what Mal said,” Lacey said.

“Mal only saw the woman Cora portrayed,” DoDo said, and his voice sounded ever so slightly sad. “Regina only ever saw the woman Cora became. Neither saw her when she was nineteen, hungover from gin and cake and left in a room, deflowered by an older man and crying as she realized she could not go home.”

“She was magnificent,” he said more to himself than to her. “She had taken her own maiden blood, the tears on her cheeks and the ash of the currency he had left her to pay for her virginity and summoned me forth from the depths of the darkness to avenge her.”

He shifted his legs until Lacey sat between them, his old traditional leather breeches framing her shoulders. The summer evening smelled of flowers and leather now, and the unmistakable scent of magic. “Did she knew she was a witch?” Lacey asked quietly.

“I believe summoning a demon clued her in,” DoDo said in amusement. “Unlike a certainty someone, she realized her power fairly quickly after that.”

Lacey ignored the taunt, knowing it was in good humor. “Well, so then, what? You shacked up with a nineteen year old?” His thighs closed on her, squeezing in reprimand before she pushed them away. “It’s too hot for that,” she complained roughly. “It was a simple question. You technically shacked up with me.”

“No, I did not shack up with her,” he answered. “I made a deal with her. All the wealth and power she could dream, for her soul.”

Lacey twisted around. “I thought…?”

She did not have to finish her question. DoDo nodded, tapping her nose with a sharp talon. “Oh, yes but Cora was clever. I’ll give her that. She found a loophole.”

“A loophole?” Lacey repeated. “Like a clause?”

“To be specific, she removed her heart and soul entirely. An easy enough trick, it’s how demons are made in the first place, but a witch doing it to herself...well...the Church was not happy.”

Lacey frowned up at him. She reached out a finger to trace the furrow in his brow. “You cared for her,” she said quietly. It was perfect obvious in the way he had never spoken about her before, the way he talked of her in a half impressed, half agonized kind of way.

“In my way,” he admitted tersely. “However, with no soul, our deal was moot. The Church drove me out of Florence, back to the Dark Realm for nearly a century. When I emerged to …. seek vengeance, she was a mother.”

“So you trained her daughter,” Lacey filled in. “You had her take your revenge on her mother.”

The demon did not reply. He stared up at the dusk sky, face clouded in memories. “Regina had her own reasons, but yes. I encouraged her.” His golden eyes fell upon her upturned face. There was no apology in them, but a guarded truth.

“So, Cora was a demon?”

He wavered. “A self made half-breed, which is all the years has never been attempted again. A witch’s power is based on her having a soul, so she effectively muzzled herself. She married well, hoping to gain power through her beauty and charm, and instead married into a sinking ship. When Regina displayed power….Cora became fixated on her daughter achieving all the dreams she had never been able to. She retained her ability to manipulate hearts, and used it to her advantage. All half breeds have some magic still in them, but she never returned to her true potential.”

Lacey made a small noise of distaste. “Well, it explains Regina at least.” There was no answer from above her. “Hey,” she said, tapping his inner thigh. “Thanks for telling me.”

He didn’t say anything, but his thighs closed ever so slightly around her in the faintest imitation of a hug.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For historical purposes, please feel free to look up Cora Pearl, which a large part of Cora'a "historical" background. 
> 
> This chapter was a little tricky due to the large amount of exposition since Cora is deceased. (Yes, she really is, I swear.) So, I know it was not so much plot developing a background establishing chapter, but I think it offers some more insights into why DoDo behaved the way he did and why Regina is the person she is. Plus, it allowed for more...."cute" moments between Lacey and DoDo. Only eight more chapters until the summer solstice! 
> 
> Next Chapter Prompt: What's Whale up to in the HG verse? Any plans for Frankenwolf?


	43. Chapter 43

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What is Victor Whale's story?

_June 8th, 2016_

It was back.

Ruby stared down at her arm, and tried to ignore the sick feeling in her stomach. The bite mark looked almost healed, pink and shiny and innocent looking. By the end of the week, it would turn began to bruise, faint yellows and greens. Then, it would reopen, redden and rise until the day before the full moon, when it would look and feel as if it had just happened. Ruby pulled her sleeve down sharply, returning her attention to where she was going.

“Hey Red!” Someone called from across the street. “Looking good!”

Ruby flashed them a toothless grin back as she kept on walking. A wolf whistle came from her right, and she forced a grimace of a smile on her features as she hurried forward.

She had done this to herself, she reminded herself as another passerby winked suggestively at her. She had given into the mark, tried to escape the truth of her reality with meaningless sex and flirtations. The weeks after her first transformation….she had tried to destroy herself in all the typical stereotypical ways. She hadn’t eaten, she had been reckless with her life, she had disappeared down the rabbit hole of self pity and self hatred and let others use her, too much of a coward to do anything else. In the end, she hadn’t escaped, all she had really done was come to hate herself more.

Archie had been the one to finally put a stop to it all. He had planted himself at her apartment, forced her to eat, threatened to tell her grandmother everything, and had gone to the Mayor for help. Ruby had not relished that meeting. Regina had sat there, smirking at her over her fingers, while Archie paced outside the Mayor’s Mansion.

It had been an eye opening meeting in more ways than one. She had been threatened, officially registered as a werewolf, and then openly mocked. Regina had enjoyed toying with her, relishing her every reaction as she painted a very nasty picture of Ruby’s future as a werewolf in no uncertain terms. It would be better, Regina had insinuated, if she just disappeared from Storybrooke entirely. For the sake of everyone she knew and cared for, of course.

When Ruby had finally rejoined Archie, she had been so furious, so determined to make sure Regina Mills never laid a finger on him, her grandmother or anyone else in this town, she had gone straight back to the diner, put on an apron and started serving as if nothing was the matter.

Although, she really needed to find something else to do soon. Heightened senses were a bitch in a diner.

A shift in the wind brought a familiar scent. Sure enough, when Ruby lifted her head, Lacey stood up ahead on the corner, holding two cups of coffee and still somehow miraculously able to balance her phone at the same time. Ruby paused. If she wanted to get to the hospital like she planned, she’d have to walk right by her.

Before she could make a decision, Lacey lifted her head and saw Ruby standing there. Lacey didn’t say anything, just smirked at her, jerking her head to indicate her to come on already. The familiarity of it eased Ruby’s mind, just enough for her to move forward to join the short brunette in front of the cafe.

“Stalking me now?” Ruby muttered, and then promptly mentally kicked herself. She kept barking at people, pushing them away. Lacey had made it clear she wasn’t going to go away. Would it be so bad to have her friend back again?

Lacey to her credit didn’t wince or snip back at her, but laughed. “Where are you headed so early?”

“It’s almost noon, Lace,” Ruby said, her voice muffled by the cup. The coffee was rich and flavorful, and by the smug look Lacey had, probably not from this continent. “Italian?”

“Turkish,” the witch shot back with a barely suppressed note of glee. “You like it?”

Ruby nodded. The corners of her mouth twitched, wanting to smile but the tight skin on her forearm kept her from doing so. Lacey’s eyes were careful to not look directly at it, but Ruby could tell it was on her mind as well.

“I was actually going to Storybrooke General,” Ruby said. “Granny’s been bugging me to go get my arm checked out, and I figured Victor owed me a favor. Write me a clean bill of health without actually you know doing any tests.”

Lacey’s eyebrows rose slightly. “God, I haven’t seen him in forever,” she whistled. “Mind if I tag along?” Ruby opened her mouth to decline but Lacey interrupted. “I mean, I could maybe help...help clear his schedule if he’s too busy to see you or something.”

Before Ruby could answer, Lacey’s face clouded. “Oh, God, Rubes, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean...of course you don’t want me to come and use magic, fuck.” She reached a hand up to push her hair back, staring off into the distance as she fumbled for the words.

Ruby, while enjoying this a bit more than she probably should, shook her head. “Sure, why not?” she said, surprising Lacey silent.

“Really?” the witch said, face brightening.

Ruby nodded, taking another sip of the coffee. It really was divine, much better than the tar they served at the diner. “Let’s go before I change my mind,” she said.

As they moved off towards the large hospital, Lacey’s presence at her side was annoyingly comforting. No one dared wolf whistle as they walked in tandem, although plenty turned to stare as they went by. Lacey filled the silence with chatter about trivial things, about Queenie, and Neal, and about her recent run in with the Manager at Sprat’s. She did not mention demons or halfbreeds, witches or werewolves and Ruby was grateful.

It felt familiar and safe, and at the climax of the Sprat story, Ruby laughed. Lacey got a weird goofy grin on her face, and linked their arms together. It was the marked arm, but Lacey kept talking, pulling them forward as if none of it mattered.

Ruby, for the first time in a long time, thought maybe it didn’t.

\--

“As I just finished telling you, Doctor Whale is not available.”

“We’re friends,” Lacey repeated heatedly. “Just page him and tell him to get his butt down here.”

The nurse narrowed her eyes at Lacey, whose fingers curled at her side. “Young lady, I’m going to have to ask you to leave, or I’ll call security and have them escort you out.”

Ruby felt a prickling on the back of her neck, and quickly laid a hand on Lacey’s shoulder. “Thank you,” Ruby said hurriedly. “We’ll just catch him another time.”

“Perhaps at the bar instead of a place of business,” the nurse said snidely.

Lacey’s hand rose as on it’s own accord. Without thinking, Ruby grabbed it. There was nothing amiss with the warm skin she found there, but Ruby’s entire body stiffened instantly at the contact. It was like catching hold of a live wire for an instant and then everything just faded away. Lacey abandoned the nurse, peering up at Ruby in concern. “You okay?” she whispered as the nurse peered suspiciously over them.

Ruby looked down at their joined palms, and barely managed to shake her head. Lacey’s hand tugged her forward, the motion of walking a distant sensation.

The hospital around them was hazy. The noises of chatter and metal were muted, as if from far away, but the sound of two heartbeats echoed louder and louder in Ruby’s ears. The only thing that felt real was the smooth skin underneath her palm, where Lacey’s fingers gripped her hand in a reassuring embrace.

“We’ll take the stairs,” she heard her friend say, but even as they began to go down, it didn’t register. Ruby was so focused on the odd prickling sensation along her skin, the feel of magic in her bones, that she could not focus on anything but the sensation. It wasn’t painful, more like being underwater.

They emerged finally into the basement area, Lacey cursing as she realized she had gone too far down. It was only then that Lacey let her hand go, dropping it to grab for the door before it swung close.

All at once, the outside world rushed back to Ruby. The texture of the painting three feet away, the frigid air conditioning pebbling her skin, the sound of Lacey’s breath and…

Ruby wrinkled her nose, clapping a hand to her face in disgust. Lacey looked over at her. “Ruby? You okay?”

Ruby pointed a finger at the sign beside Lacey’s head. It read Morgue and had an arrow pointing down the hall to their left. “Oh,” Lacey said, casting a worried look over at her. “You can…?”

“Smell bodies decomposing,” Ruby said through her hands. “Yea.”

“Gross,” Lacey said shuddering. “But you’re okay? You scared me for a minute there.”

Ruby nodded, taking her hands away to speak when another scent caught her attention. She twisted, looking down the hall, as her ears strained. “Ruby?” Lacey repeated. “Rubes, hello, earth to Ruby?”

“I think Victor is down here,” Ruby said slowly. The smell of his trademark cologne lingered in the hallway over by the elevator.

Lacey joined her, looking thoughtful. Her hand extended slightly, as if conducting an invisible orchestra and then she smiled. “Hey, you’re right,” she said brightly. “Let’s go surprise him!”

“Did you just...use magic?” Ruby asked her, following after her.

Lacey nodded, tossing a shit eating grin over her shoulder. “Did you just use your heightened senses?”

Ruby opened her mouth, only to find she was smiling back. “I guess I did.”

“Cool,” Lacey said with a little wiggle of her shoulders. “Oh, god, this is so much more fun than lessons with Mal and Regina.”

They followed the signs, coming to the morgue within moments. Ruby tried the door, only to find it locked. The blinds were all drawn shut. She went to knock, but Lacey stopped her.

With a wink, the witch twisted her finger in a rapid counter clockwise swirl, and the lock slid free. Ruby gave her a pointed look. “What?” Lacey said innocently, tucking her hair behind her ear. “He’d be disappointed if we didn’t say hi. We’ll just tell him the nurse told us he was down here.”

Ruby wasn’t sure. “The door was locked,” she whispered, which was silly as they were obviously the only ones in the hallway. “Maybe he’s busy.”

“Doing what?” Lacey deadpanned. “Talking up a corpse?”

Before Ruby could scold her, Lacey had thrown open the door, striding in as only she could. “Surprise!” she exclaimed, flinging her arms out wide. Ruby followed quickly behind her, only to run directly into her shorter friend who had stopped short just inches past the doorway.

Victor stood at a slab nearby, eyes wide as he stared at them both in horror. “What are you doing here?”

They stared in horror right back.

“What are we doing?” Lacey asked, her voice cracking slightly. “What are you doing?”

He swallowed. “Ladies,” he said, dropping the brain he had been in the middle of eating back down onto the corpse before him. “I can explain.”

Ruby wrapped a hand around Lacey’s arm, trying to tug her backwards. The witch stood stubbornly still, staring at the scene before them. “You’re eating that guy’s brain,” she said with no trace of emotion. “Please. Explain.”

Victor wiped his bloody hands on the apron he wore, and Ruby had to pinch her nose to keep from gagging. The smell of formaldehyde and chemicals was strong, but the putrid scent of freshly exposed brains was rising above it all. That and something else even more toxic.

“God, Victor,” Ruby said. “What did you do, bathe in cologne this morning?”

“He’s elbow deep in brains, and you’re complaining about his cologne?” Lacey said in astonishment.

“I-!” Victor attempted.

“Oh, no,” Lacey said, raising a hand. “You don’t speak.”

The doctor held both bloody hands up. “I can explain!” he exclaimed, but the blood on his chin was glistening in the flourescent lighting. “Just let me explain. Please.”

 

The doctor sighed, collapsing backwards onto a stool, putting his head in his hands. He groaned, tugging at this dirty blonde hair, leaving bloody streaks through it. “It’s not my fault,” he said, and when he looked back up, his eyes were frightened. His voice sounded as if he were crying, but no tears fell from his eyes. “I can’t stop myself.”

Ruby put a hand on Lacey’s arm. Their twin heartbeats were still loud in her ears, the smell of death and decay clinging to her skin. She approached Victor, who watched her with a sad and sullen expression. “Who did this to you?” Ruby asked, picking up a towel from the bench nearby.

Victor winced as she moved to touch him, and behind her, Lacey made a motion but Ruby ignored both of them. She gingerly wiped the blood off his face, and then slowly took his hands, wiping them until the blood was a faint stain. Victor watched her through all this, eyes wide.

He was cold. His skin dry and waxen, and now that she was close to him, she could see his hair was lifeless, his eyes sunken and his breath rancid. When she finished, she tried again. “Who did this to you, Victor?”

His lip trembled. “I don’t know,” he admitted. “I was leaving some bar on Halloween and all of a sudden...I don't’ remember. I woke up the next morning in the woods by the toll bridge and….”

Lacey’s hand dropped to her side, and she turned away. Ruby continued to stand beside Victor, who looked up at her perplexed. “For the first few days...I didn’t...realize. It was only when I realized I hadn’t heard my own heartbeat...that I wasn’t breathing on my own that...that I was dead.”

“A zombie,” Lacey finished for him, her voice muffled. “You’re a zombie.”

“No, really?” he shot back, sounding for the first time like his old self. Victor Whale had been around Storybrooke as long as Ruby had been, and while they had never been close, he had always been a constant. Smooth, charming and self centered as they came, he was one of the most sought after bachelor in Storybrooke, a huge reason he never moved to a bigger city despite his many talents as a surgeon. “I figured as much when I started craving brains.” He gestured towards the table. “They left their body to science,” he said petulantly. “Figured it was better than digging up graves.”

“There’s zombies, now?” Ruby asked Lacey incredulously.

“I guess?” Lacey said, leaning up against the door. She put her head in her hand, shaking it slightly as she thought. “I knew zombies technically exist, but -”

“They’re usually brainless hordes,” Victor finished in disgust. “Eating the flesh off the living.”

“No,’ Lacey sighed. “They’re usually cronies of demons. The demon provides them food, they serve the demon willingly, yada yada yada. According to DoDo, they fell out of fashion after the plague.”

“Demons?” Victor said, eyes wide. “What do you mean demons?”

“She’s a witch,” Ruby said frankly. “And she keeps accidentally summoning demons to Storybrooke.”

“Ruby!”

“Well it’s true, isn’t it?”

“It’s not like I meant to!”

“What about you?” Victor asked, turning to look up at Ruby. “You’re a witch too?”

“Uh,” Ruby said, looking away. “No...actually.”

“Ruby,” Lacey said softly. “You don’t have to.”

Ruby looked up. Lacey stood nearby, concern written on every line in her face. It was then that Ruby could see it. The burden, the worry, the uncertainty riding on Lacey’s shoulders, Ruby had somehow missed it these last few months. Her once carefree friend had grown up in the months they hadn’t been speaking, and Ruby felt a sad twinge in her breast. She had missed it because she had been too busy hating herself. She had missed realizing Victor was in trouble because she had been too busy pitying herself. What else had she missed?

With a bitter smile, she shrugged. “I’m a werewolf,” she admitted hoarsely. “Bitten on Halloween too, actually.” She rolled up her sleeve, showing him the mark. “It gets worse as the full moon approaches,” she said softly. “I didn’t know what to do. It was just-”

“Too much,” Victor finished. His voice was strangled, but he stood. He nodded, looking back over at Lacey. “So, is there...a cure?”

Lacey shook her head. “No.”

Victor nodded as if he had known, but the slump of his shoulders was heartbreaking. Ruby lay a hand on his shoulder, and squeezed.

“Shit,” Lacey mumbled to herself. She had fished her cell phone out of her pocket and was waving it around, trying to find service. “I’m going to run outside and call DoDo. Ruby, do you want to-”

“I’ll stay here,” she said firmly.

Lacey looked at her for a moment before nodding. “I’ll be right back,” she promised. “Better lock this behind me and maybe, uh, clean this up before the actual mortician gets back from lunch.”

She left them alone then. The werewolf and the zombie sat alone in a room full of the dead as the witch disappeared back into the world of the living.

The two condemned lingered there in the morgue, and while neither one of them would ever admit it, they both felt some small relief at not the knowledge that they were not the only monster in town.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welllllllllllll, wellllllll, welllllll. Who watches iZombie? Come on, I couldn’t miss the opportunity to kill off someone, while paying homage to a great show, and the of course the fact that Dr. Frankenstein digs graves up much like zombies might for brains.
> 
> This was Ruby’s first POV chapter. I wanted to let you guys see what she’s been dealing with, and it gave me the opportunity to use some of her “cursed” canon personality as well. Hope you guy enjoyed meeting Victor “officially”, and in the future we’ll learn more about zombies but next time: Neal and Mary Margaret have an awkward talk…


	44. Chapter 44

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Neal and Mary Margaret have an awkward conversation

June 9th, 2016

If there was one person Neal did not expect to see in Manhattan, it would be Mary Margaret Blanchard.

And yet, here she stood.

“Mary Margaret?”

The diminutive brunette turned around in line, a puzzled but pleasant smile on her face. It instantly fell away as she locked eyes with him, all color draining rapidly from her face. “Neal?”

He nodded, looking around for Lacey or David. “What are you doing here?” he asked, still searching the crowds of Upright Coffee. It was mid Thursday morning, and most of the people in the cafe currently were tourists or artists of some kind. 

The Storybrooke local winced, searching for an excuse that wouldn’t sound too much like a lie. Around them, other customers typed away on cell phones, ignoring them completely. “I’m in town visiting...a friend!” Mary Margaret finally said, hurrying forward as the line moved.

“A friend?” Neal said pleasantly, following after her. “I thought you said you didn’t know anyone in New York?”

Mary Margaret swallowed. “Well. I mean, a friend… visiting New York.”

Neal took pity on her. “I won’t tell Lacey I saw you,” he said, nodding for her to move forward again. 

To his surprise, Mary Margaret sighed. “I’m not worried about Lacey finding out,” she said, coloring slightly. “I just don’t want you to say anything to your father.”

“Why would I say-?” He fell quiet as Mary Margaret flushed red, tugging at her dress’ peter pan collar. “Oh,” he said dully. “You don’t want David to find out.”

“It’s not like that,” she said hurriedly, glancing nervously around her as people squeezed by to fetch their drinks. Neal stayed silent, rather disappointed. It was likely people who cheated would continue to cheat in future relationships, it was human nature, but he hadn’t thought Mary Margaret one of those people despite her rocky start with David Nolan. “Oh, god,” she groaned, catching sight of his face. “Neal, just promise me, you won’t say anything to Gold?”

He shrugged in a noncommittal fashion. “I’m not really speaking to my father at the moment,” he said tensely. 

“Join the club,” Mary Margaret said dully. “I haven’t willingly spoken to my stepmother since I was sixteen.”

Before Neal could process this, the barista barked out next and Mary Margaret hurried forward. “I’ll take a...mint tea, please,” she said, eyes scanning the menu behind the barista’s head. “A small.”

Neal’s brow furrowed. “Tea?” he said. “You’re more of a double shot espresso with caramel and whipped cream if I remember, correctly?”

“Yea,” Mary Margaret said drily. “Also used to be a two glasses of wine every night kind of girl but looks like that’s out the window for a while too.”

Neal’s eyes widened, even as Mary Margaret whirled to him, clapping a hand to her mouth in panic. “You’re-”

“Shush!” she exclaimed, waving her hands to quiet him. Around them, everyone continued to ignore them, obviously caring less if he had just discovered one of Lacey’s friends was pregnant. 

“Anything else?” the barista yawned, and Neal hurried to place his traditional order, ignoring Mary Margaret's insistence that she would pay. He handed over a ten, told the bored teen behind the counter to keep the change, and hurried Mary Margaret away to a table nearby. 

“You’re pregnant?” Neal repeated, searching her face. 

Mary Margaret nodded miserably, although a hint of a smile peeked out when she glanced down at the table between them. “Not so loud!” she said, fumbling for her purse. She pulled out a folded piece of paper, placing it like a bomb between them on the table. Neal gently opened it, finding an ultrasound staring back up at him. 

“So, you’re in New York because you don’t want David to know?” Neal rationed. Mary Margaret nodded as she took the piece of paper back, crinkling it between her fingers. “He’s going to find out eventually,” Neal told her. “Unless you’re going to…”

“No!” she exclaimed, and a few people looked over at the outburst. “No,” she repeated, far quieter this time. “I just wanted to make sure before I...before I said anything.”

“How far along are you?” Neal asked, peering over at her empire waist dress. 

“Almost four months,” Mary Margaret said miserably. “Doctor said I conceived around mid-February.”

“Valentine’s Day?” Neal laughed. “Oh god, that’s so cliche, you two.”

Before Mary Margaret could reply, Neal heard their number called out and went to retrieve their drinks. “I couldn’t even tell,” Neal said, shaking his head as he returned to her. “You’re dressing to hide it, I’m assuming?”

“Well, yea,” Mary Margaret said, taking her tea with a thank you. She sighed. “I couldn’t really tell either until a few weeks ago.”

“David hasn’t noticed anything?” Neal asked. 

Mary Margaret shook her head. “He’s been so busy with becoming deputy sheriff,” she sighed, sipping her tea. “He’s always at work, or thinking about work, or studying for work...he hasn’t even noticed I stopped drinking at dinner. He’s not the most observant of men.”

Neal muffled a laugh, thinking of how David had been observant enough to notice his father wasn’t human. “Well, I don’t know about that,” he said. “Wow. Four months pregnant.”

“It’s a girl,” Mary Margaret said with a sigh. “Found out this morning.”

Neal nodded, although he was quickly getting out of his comfort zone. He had never been fully at ease with pregnant women, and despite being fond of Mary Margaret, he was quickly becoming flustered with what to say. 

“Have a name picked out?” he asked, casting about for something, anything.

She shrugged. “More worried about how to tell David,” she admitted. “We haven’t exactly talked about this. His divorce is barely finalized, and now, I have to tell him we’re about to have a baby.”

There were tears in her eyes, her bottom lip trembling slightly. “I’ve been coming to the city so no one back home finds out,” she told him. “I read it could hurt the divorce proceedings, and while I know Kathryn wouldn’t be so cruel, her father I’m less certain of.”

“It’s going to be okay,” Neal said, reaching over to pat her hand. “If I know David, he’ll just be disappointed you didn’t tell him sooner.”

“I know,” she sniffed, dabbing her eyes with a napkin. “I tried to tell him last week...so he could come today for the ultrasound but I just couldn’t...he was so excited about some project he and Graham are working on and I just…”

“Hey,” Neal soothed, scooting his chair around the side of the table. Mary Margaret collapsed into his arms, throwing her arms over his shoulders as she broke into heaving sobs across his chest. “it’s okay,” he said, awkwardly rubbing her back as people shot them curious glances. “It’s okay, Mary Margaret.”

“It’s not,” she wailed into his chest, hiccuping slightly. “He’s going to think I did it on pur-purpose!”

Neal had to smother a smile. “No,” he said reassuringly. “He loves you. Anybody can see that. Sometime’s timing doesn’t work out the way you’d like it, but trust me, he’ll be happy.”

“You...you really think so?” Mary Margaret said, sitting upright. Her mascara was leaking and her nose was bright red but she looked hopeful. 

Neal nodded. “I think you should tell him soon though,” he advised. 

Mary Margaret sighed. “I know, it’s just with the summer solstice coming up, and Lacey training all the time-”

“Wait, what?”

Mary Margaret, perfectly calm once more as if she had not been moments ago crying on his shirt, looked at him with a raised brow. “Training,” she repeated. “Between your father and my stepmother and Mal, she barely has any time to herself. I was hoping she might help me tell David.” She gave him a shrewd look. “David likes you though,” she said, tapping a finger against her chin thoughtfully. “Maybe you-”

Neal held up his hands. “Wait, you know about...Lacey?”

Mary Margaret shrugged. “Yea. Weren’t you listening? My stepmother is a witch.”

Neal sat back in his chair, reaching a hand up to smoothen his hair. “Jesus,” he mumbled to himself. “So you know that my dad is…?”

“A demon,” Mary Margaret finished impatiently. “Yes.”

“Does David know that you know?” Neal asked.

She exhaled in annoyance. “I have not had a chance to tell him I’m pregnant,” she said testily. “Do you think I’ve discussed his roommate’s personal life?”

Neal repeated his earlier curse. “This is unreal.”

“You’re telling me,” Mary Margaret said, sipping her tea. “I’m unmarried, dating a divorced man who lives with a demon who is best friends with one of my best friends who is a witch and is training with my estranged stepmother, also a witch, and I’m four months pregnant and the only person who knows is the son of my lover’s roommate.” She sighed. “Did I miss anything?”

Neal nodded. “There’s another demon in Storybrooke bent on the destruction of the world.”

“Great,” Mary Margaret moaned, eyes shutting. “When?”

“Uh,” Neal pulled his phone out and checked the calendar. “Monday the 20th?”

She sighed. “Okay, I’ll wait until then to tell David. If we’re still alive come Tuesday morning, I’ll tell him he’s going to be a daddy.”

Neal blinked.

This was not how he expected his Thursday to go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *giggles evilly*


	45. Chapter 45

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Magic Lessons with Mal and Regina

_Sunday June 11, 2016_

“You know today is Sunday, right? It’s supposed to be a day of rest.”

Mal ignored her. “Try again,” she suggested. A large crystal ball sat before the two of them, crystal clear and utterly devoid of foresights. They had been at this for the past hour. “Focus harder on the subject you have in mind,” she suggested.

Lacey’s eye twitched but she inhaled deeply. As a Guardian, her own future was lost to her and anyone who might seek it. It was also considered poor taste to look into a fellow witches future, and demons and halfbreeds tended to bring negative energy which left Lacey with the unpleasant task of picking a friend to spy upon.

Concentrating once more on Ariel, Lacey peered into the future.

Her reflection peered back.

“Ugh,” she said, standing up abruptly. “Forget it. This is pointless.”

Mal tapped her talon like fingernails against the table, staring boredly up at her as she stormed away. “You’re not focusing.”

“I am!” Lacey repeated vehemently. “I bring the subject to my mind, I picture them clearly and then with my brow center, I will to see the next. Except, all I see is my forehead all wrinkled up!”

“Try again,” Mal repeated and Lacey’s hands curled into fists at her side.

“This is stupid,” Lacey grumbled. “We’re wasting time. The solstice is in nine days. I should be practicing blowing things up, not counting cards.”

Mal tapped the surface of the crystal ball and it instantly went cloudy. “The future holds many possibilities,” she said vaguely. “It is wise to consider them all.”

Lacey exhaled forcibly. “There’s no point,” she repeated. “I’m useless at this.”

“You lack patience,” Mal said. “You do not lack the ability.”

“You’re getting very Karate Kid,” Lacey muttered under her breath. “Wax on. Wax off.”

Still, she returned to the table. Ignoring Mal’s superior look, Lacey put both hands back to the crystal ball, watching as the smoke from Mal’s touch disappeared like rainclouds did when the sun came out. She shot Mal a look over the rounded surface, but the older witch ignored her, staring deep into the clear depths.  
Once more bringing Ariel to mind, Lacey returned her own sights to the crystal ball. It felt rather stupid, and the twitch in her eye returned, slightly stronger now that she had her eyes narrowed but she kept at it. Perhaps if she at least pretended to -

There was a splash, a sound of something tumbling into the water and then laughter. Lacey wrenched her head upright, nearly breaking contact with the globe but Mal’s hand shot out like lighting and stilled her. “Keep at it,” she whispered, her touch firm but gentle. “Follow it.”

Feeling incredibly silly, Lacey nodded. She concentrated on the splashing sound, and it repeated, followed by more laughter. A hazy blue and red tinged her sight. Lacey let her eyes go unfocused, and the image of Ariel swam into picture.

She was older, though her green eyes were still bright and happy, untroubled by the world. She stood in the waves along the beach, her eyes locked on something in the distance. Lacey could hear a child’s laughter, the sounds of splashing and Ariel’s voice calling out a name like a song.

“Good,” Mal said quietly across from her. “What do you see?”

“She’s happy,” Lacey said, omitting Ariel’s name. It was important for Mal to not know whose future she was scrying, or Mal’s own talent would provide her the future with ease, effectively ruining the lesson. “She’s older but she doesn’t look it. I just can kind of...tell?”

Mal nodded, her pale blue eyes glowing like embers in the dimness of the room. “You’re tethered to her life,” she explained. “Is she alone?”

Lacey shook her head. “She’s with her daughter,” she said. As she heard herself say this, she looked up, effectively breaking the connection. “How did I know that?” she asked Mal in bewilderment. “I just saw her standing on a beach-”

Mal sighed, and threw a shroud over the crystal ball. “You were a part of her,” she said quietly. “It was how I knew so much about you after our first meeting.”

The hair along Lacey’s arms raised, a sure sign of magic. She checked her own centers, and found them all humming quietly, her brow center still tingling from using the sight. “Mal,” she said, eyes searching the face before her. “If I saw her future…then everything’s going to be fine.”

Mal chuckled darkly and stood. “Oh, Lacey,” she sighed, shaking her head as she moved to collect the tea cups from their earlier stab at tea leaf readings. “You wanted to see your friend, happy and safe. So, you saw it. If you looked again, you might see another future altogether.”

Lacey gaped at her. “So, it’s all nonsense?” she asked. “What was the point of all these hours learning how to see the future if it’s not set in stone?”

Mal fixed her with a level gaze. “The future does not deal in absolutes. You should be grateful for that.”

Lacey stood, nearly knocking the spindly table over. Maleficent stood eerily still, the blonde hair around her shoulders frizzing slightly in the summer heat despite the air conditioning. “What did you see?” Lacey demanded. “In my future?”

“You erased that future the moment you set foot in the Dark One’s domain,” Mal said, her german accent growing thicker. It was the only tell Mal had, the only indication of deeper emotions beneath the usual placid surface. She held her palms up, her’s heavily lined with crisscrosses indicating her many years on the Earth. Lacey’s palms itched, so she curled her fingers into fists at her side. Her palms were smooth, washed away by the waters of the Lethe.

“Then, tell me what you saw,” Lacey growled.

“You’re acting like a child,” Mal said in return.

“Mal,” Lacey warned, and the center in her lower back warmed to life. “I’m only acting like a child because you insist on treating me like one.”

“You’re late for your lesson with Regina,” Mal said, and she turned her back to Lacey. “She’ll give you something to do with all that anger.”

With that, she disappeared out the back door. Lacey heard Dragons’s snort of welcome, and sighed. As much as she wanted to press the issue, she had little interest in getting Dragon riled up.

The brown pony may be little, but he had a mean bite.

\--

“You’re late.”

“Regina,” Lacey said in overly fond society tones. “How nice to see you too.”

Regina flicked a baleful eye up at her from the computer screen. “There’s been another disappearances,” she said, nudging a folder over to Lacey before she returned her attention to the screen. “Total of five this year.”

Lacey’s stomach twisted unpleasantly, as she flipped open the folder. A scruffy brunette male stared up at her in the first, another photo showed a blonde woman laughing mutely, but the third one caught Lacey’s attention.

“I know this guy,” she said, looking up at Regina. “Billy, Ruby went out with him once.”

Regina glanced over at her, brow raised. “Well,” she said after a moment perusing the picture. “He was reported missing in January. Don’t think she ate him, do you?”

Ignoring the jibe at her friend, Lacey glanced back down, reading over the very limited case file documents. “How come none of this is in the paper?” she asked, frowning. There was an older woman with dirty blonde hair after Billy, and the last photo showed a young man with a long face and shaggy blonde hair. He had a mean look about him, but he was younger than the rest.

Regina gave a mirthless laugh. “There are perks to being mayor,” she said with relish.

Lacey didn’t touch that one. Most of the town knew the Mayor had the Sheriff in her pocket, and one would have to be blind to miss the _Looking Glass_ Editor Sidney Glass was under her spell as well.

“Besides, there’s no evidence of foul play. No need to send the town into a panic,” Regina continued.

“Oh no,” Lacey said, tossing the folder back onto the desk. “No need for the good people of Storybrooke to know there’s a demon on the loose.”

Regina shot her a withering look but seemed to decide there had been enough small talk. “We should get started,” she said. “I have a dinner reservation this evening.”

Lacey rolled her eyes, but peeled herself out of the seat.

They made their way upstairs into Regina’s residence, the stark black and whites as prominent here as downstairs with the occasional splash of candy apple red. Regina’s heels made a clicking noise as they walked, Lacey’s wedges clumping softly behind her.

“I think elemental today,” Regina decided, pushing a door at the end of the hall open. Lacey followed her inside, barely managing to clear the doorway before she had to twist and parry to miss the large fireball Regina had thrown at her.

“Watch the hair!” she said, crouching as another one arced around a nearby supportive pillar.

Regina’s laugh echoed eerily in the large space, and Lacey caught a glimpse of her standing nearby, half hidden behind a pillar. Her spine center flared to life, but her brow center tingled in warning.

Feinting, Lacey twisted around and found the real Regina standing there, another fireball in her palm. Lacey crossed her arms over her face, before flinging them back out, causing the fireball to sputter and fizzle out of existence entirely.

Regina arched a brow. “Impressive,” she said. However, the wicked grin on her face was not as encouraging. Lacey barely had a chance to throw up a shield spell before two large jets of water came shooting from both sides. The water splashed off the shield, but Lacey’s shoes were drenched, having not been included in the hasty spell.

“These were my favorite,” Lacey grumbled, but there was little time to lament. The ground beneath her feet was shaking, and she had to use her tap into her stomach center to try and find her balance.

The rest of the session went similar. Regina throwing every possible curve, and for every spell Lacey parried or returned, she would cheat, leaving Lacey flustered and frustrated, singed and soaked.

“Enough!” Lacey exclaimed, wiping futilely at the burn mark on her skirt. “If you’re going to be a sore loser about this, there’s no point!”

Regina snorted, but she was still walking gingerly from where Lacey had used a wind spell to knock her head over heels. “Demons don’t play fair,” she said calmly. “You think your lover would have explained that to you by now.”

“DoDo is not my lover,” Lacey muttered, checking her now chipped nails. “Didn’t you have a date or something?”

Regina opened her mouth to no doubt send a scathing reply when the doorbell rang. Her eyes narrowed in annoyance and she looked down at her watch. “He’s early!” she complained, hand flying to her hair. “I’m not even dressed.”

Enjoying this, Lacey crossed her arms. “So, we done?”

Regina was already halfway out of the door. “Have your boyfriend go over shielding spells with you,” she called over her shoulder. “Yours still has too many holes.”

Downstairs, the doorbell rang again, the visitor leaning heavily on it this time. Regina barely gave her a second glance, her bedroom door shutting violently behind her as she hurried to get ready.

Unconcerned, Lacey skipped down the stairs. While it was fun to see Regina off kilter, she knew the other witch well enough to know she would be ready before her date got too antsy. Magic was a girl’s best friend after all.

Before the bell could ring again, Lacey pulled it open. “Hey Sheriff Skinnypants,” she sang, smiling as she leaned against the door jamb. “Long time no arrest.”

“Lacey,” Graham sighed, raking a hand through his thick curly hair. “Is Reinga home?”

“Getting dressed,” Lacey said. She made no effort to let him inside or to let herself out and he stared back at her in resignment. “She’ll be down in a moment.”

He nodded, stuffing his hands in his jean pockets. He looked rather smaller out of uniform, and Lacey let her eyes rake over him, enjoying the faint discomfort he was emitting as he tried to avoid eye contact with her.

“So,” he finally said, clapping his hands together. “I guess I’ll just...go?”

Lacey laughed. “Don’t on my account,” she said, pushing away from the door. “Don’t you have reservations?”

“No,” came a calm voice from just beyond Graham. “I do.”

Sidney Glass stood on the porch below, glasses flashing in the late afternoon sun. He had a bouquet of royal purple hydrangea starting to wilt from the heat. Graham looked even more flustered, while Lacey grinned wide enough to hurt her cheeks.

“Lacey French,” she said, sticking her hand out. “I don’t think we’ve ever officially met.”

“Charmed,” he said, but he did not move to join them on the porch. “Is Regina at home?”

“Getting dressed,” Lacey said cheekily. “Graham here was waiting on her too.”

“I just wanted to speak to her about something,” the Sheriff said, coloring slightly. “I see it’s a bad time. I’ll go.”

“Hey, wait,” Lacey called out, pushing the door wide open. “Sydney, she’s expecting you, go on in.”

She hurried past the offended figure, catching up with Graham before he reached the gate. “So,” she said, swinging her arms as she matched her stride to his. “Trouble in paradise?”

“I am not seeing Regina,” he growled. “I don’t know where that ridiculous rumor came from. I was merely stopping to discuss...official police matters.”

She let the teasing tone drop. He looked upset, and while she wished she could tell him it wasn’t his fault, Lacey knew better than to share that she knew about the disappearances. Much less how much she knew about them. Graham Humbert was a good man, but he was still a mortal, and an elected official to boot. So, instead, she nodded. “Anything I can help with?”

Graham sighed, reaching up absently to rub his scruffy chin. “Just...be safe out there,” he said finally.

Thinking about the demons and werewolves, zombies and halfbreeds, witches and god knew what else running around, Lacey just shrugged. “Whatever you say, Sheriff.”

\--

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey Guys, check out the awesome fan art UltimateFan made for the best new brotp on the block: Drango! Thank you so much dear, I love it! I gave Dragon a wee call out in this chapter, but hope to get more of these two together soon!
> 
> \--
> 
> Okay, guys we are nine days away from the summer solstice with five chapters to go before this season "finale". You think I would stop introducing characters but I say you can never have enough! So, some more screen time for Sydney and I think the first official appearance of Graham, though he has been mentioned before. (Note: He and Regina are not sleeping together despite her interest in him/but she does have something over his head) 
> 
> Next chapter: Lacey and DoDo discuss the future.


	46. Chapter 46

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DoDo and Lacey talk about the future. Lacey thinks about a daughter in a loose, abstract way (not necessarily wanting one)

_Monday, June 12th_

It was a perfect day in Storybrooke, Maine.

Sand clung to Lacey’s toes and saltwater beaded on her skin as she collapsed back on her towel. She lay flat upon her back to stare up at the puffy white clouds sailing by, soaking in the sun.

Until a large shadow fell across her entire body.

“The Nun is going to have your hide for this,” DoDo drawled. “Changing the weather for your own enjoyment is a big no no, you know.”

Lacey rolled over to find her old roommate had appeared with little warning. He was reclined in a oversized beach chair, a large umbrella over the two of them. Lacey opened her mouth to protest, but he was already handing her a pina colada.

He wore an old bathing suit from the forties, large sunglasses, and a dab of sunscreen over his nose. He looked ridiculous, so of course, Lacey took a photo.

“Cheese,” he said, grinning wolfishly for the picture.

Lacey laughed, throwing the phone down beside her. “Forget the Nun. What are you doing out here?”

“Same could be asked of you,” he answered. “This is a rather remote little cove.”

Lacey shrugged, burying her feet in the gritty sand. “Maybe I wanted to be alone.” She reached up to undo her bikini top tie from around her neck. “Get rid of some tan lines.

DoDo scoffed. “You’re a witch,” he reminded her. “Just snap your fingers.”

“It’s not as much fun,” Lacey teased. She lay down on her stomach, pulling her bikini top off completely. Her bottoms were cheeky little things, ruched and more suggestive than covering. She prepared for him to say something scathing, but nothing was forthcoming.

“Speaking of fun,” he continued, slurping his drink noisily. “I have some news.”

“Goodie,” Lacey sighed. “What’s wrong now?”

“I did some research into your zombie friend,” DoDo said. “He’s appears to be the only one.”

“Okay,” Lacey said, propping her head up on her arms. “That’s a good thing, right?”

DoDo shrugged. “For whatever reason, ZoZo is trying to build up quite a group of ne’er do wells. There’s a werewolf and a zombie that we know of, but for whatever reason, we got lucky both times.”

Lacey didn’t argue that as terrible as it sounded. One of her best friends was now a werewolf, but what if had been someone else? Someone who enjoyed the power and terror? Lacey knew plenty of people who would jump at the opportunity to inflict pain and suffering on others, even if it did come with a hair problem. As for Victor, a doctor with access to brains was another lucky break.

Lacey twisted to stare pensively up at her companion. “DoDo,” she said slowly, “you wouldn’t by any chance have anything to do with any of this...would you?”

He sighed, and took his sunglasses off. His golden eyes gleamed brightly at her under the shade of the umbrella, and he held her gaze. “No,” he said simply. “My ulterior movies began and ended with using you to defeat my century old nemesis. I’m afraid I didn’t think to one up the competition by amassing my own loyal army of goodie two shoes.”

“A no would have sufficed,” Lacey replied archly.

“Then, no.”

A gentle wind kicked up the edges of her towel, and Lacey willed it away. It died down instantly. “Summer solstice is in eight days,” Lacey said lightly. “Got any plans?”

“Something with a girl, a demon and the end of the world,” he answered with a shrug. “Nothing I can’t cancel.”

Lacey laughed, and relaxed against the sand. To be honest, she had come here today to escape it all. The pressure, the ticking clock, the training and her own uncertainty. It wasn’t Miami, but with the right alterations, it had come pretty close. Even the usually grey water sparkled blue for a few feet, a testament to her growing abilities.

“Did you ever think we would be here?” Lacey asked, her voice muffled by her arms.

“At the beach?”

She rolled over slightly, taking care to keep her top in place. “No, I meant, here. Me being a Guardian of the Realms about to take on a demon, and you helping me. Bit different than takeout night and reruns.”

“I preferred takeout night,” he said drily.

“Yea,” Lacey said. “Me too. Still, what will you do?” she asked. “When it’s all over?”

He didn’t reply for a moment. The sounds of the waves and the gulls echoed back to them.

“Rule the Dark Realm,” he said after a moment. “Go gather more souls here and there, learn to knit.”

Lacey laughed. “So, when you get what you’ve wanted for centuries, you’re just going to go home?”

He shrugged. “With ZoZo out of the way, I gain ultimate power. The thing about ultimate power is, you do what you want. I want to rule in peace.”

“And learn to knit.”

“That was a quip.”

“What about Neal?”

“Bae is still not speaking to me,” he told her. “If you can forgive me for trying to sacrifice you, I don’t see why he can’t.”

“Neal’s different than you and I,” Lacey reminded him. “He views the world differently. He cares about people.”

“You care about people.”

Lacey looked up at him, and found he was deadly earnest. “A few people,” she allowed, reaching for her bikini top. She tied it in place, sitting up and adjusting it as she thought it over. “I understood,” she told him. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, I was pissed, but I understood where you were coming from. Neal just saw it as one more time you had fooled him, let him down, used somebody.”

“It’s my nature.”

Lacey couldn’t argue with that. “Yet, you’re here, and you’re going to help,” she allowed. “He’ll come around eventually.”

“What about you?”

“He’s not pissed at me,” Lacey said, reaching for the suntan oil. “In fact, I’m invited down for July Fourth if I survive the solstice.”

Neal had been adamant that he was not getting involved with the upcoming battle, and had heavily suggested she get out of dodge as well. Lacey had changed the subject to a future weekend vacation to the city, and he had sighed but agreed to host.

“No, I meant, what will you do when it’s all over?”

Lacey blinked. “Well. God, I guess travel? I mean, I have powers now. I can see the world if I want to.”

He nodded. “The Seychelles are lovely this time of year.”

Noticing their drinks were empty, Lacey provided the next round, reaching eagerly for the freshly made sangria before he had even finished his sentence.

“Would you ever come back here?” he asked.

Lacey snorted. “No, what’s there here for me except a crappy apartment. Queenie likes to explore, I’d have a built in travel buddy for life.”

“What about your friends?”

Lacey shrugged. “They’d be here if I wanted to visit. Come back for weddings and that sort of things.”

“Like babies?”

“Sure, like babies.”

“Well, don’t plan on leaving just yet then,” Dodo said, conversationally. “Mary Margaret’s pregnant.”

“What?” He chuckled as she scrambled up to her knees. “How do you know?” she demanded.

“It’s not a riddle. She’s pregnant,” he said simply, spreading his hands out before him. “Mal’s known for months now.”

Lacey grabbed for her phone, but DoDo reached down and stole it away. “She hasn’t told David yet,” he said, wagging a finger at her. “She’s not ready for you to know.”

“Then, why did you just tell me?” Lacey demanded, reaching for her phone. “I’m not going to just pretend I don’t know.”

“If we all survive the solstice, you can tell her you know,” he said calmly. “For now, you can sit on the secret like the rest of us.”

“God, pregnant,” Lacey breathed, her own hand going to cover her stomach. Sand, sweat, and salt bristled against her palm as she imagined what it must be like to have a live growing inside you. She shuddered at the idea.

“A girl.”

“How do you know that?” Lacey demanded, turning to him.

He arched a brow at her. “The same way you know your little friend Ariel will have a daughter,” he said. “I saw it.”

“Jesus,” she said faintly. “That’s terrifying.”

“Parenthood or daughters?”

“Both.”

He laughed. “I suppose so. When I learned Bae was a boy, I nearly wept with relief. Boys were safer back then, though now I’m not so sure. A girl might have listened.”

Lacey shook her head. “No offspring of your’s would ever listen,” she said, nudging his legs. “You’re lucky Neal turned out the way he did.”

“Says you,” he grumbled. “Imagine having a child you does the opposite of everything you taught them, it’s infuriating.”

Lacey found herself doing just that. For a moment, she could almost picture it, and then, it faded away like smoke. She shook her head to clear it away, but her hand had wandered back to her stomach.

“Mal and Regina never had kids,” she said. “Guess it’s easier not to worry about kids when you’re nearly immortal.”

“Regina adopted Mary Margaret,” he reminded her. He had enjoyed to no end her discovery of that, having apparently made a deal with Regina to keep his mouth closed on that score. Now, he was able to rib her endlessly about being a stepmother, and was free of any repercussions. “And Maleficent had a daughter.”

“What?”

He grinned. “Oh, yes, Lily, I believe her name was. I’m not privy to the entire story, but apparently, she was quite the little witch. Apple didn’t fall far from the tree.”

“She never said-”

“Maleficent is not one to advertise her weaknesses,” he said pointedly. “Didn’t you ever wonder why she was here training you? She has an ax to grind with ZoZo just as much as you do.”

Lacey swallowed. “I didn’t know.”

“Course you didn’t,” he said, smacking his lips as he finished his drink. “Up for a swim?”

Before she could reply, he was standing and striding towards the waves. Lacey threw back her own drink, hurrying after him.

“What happened to her?” Lacey asked, crashing into the waves. DoDo was floating on his back, perfectly buoyant.

“Who?”

“Don’t play dumb,” Lacey grumbled. “Mal’s daughter.”

“Oh, she died,” he said with a wave of his hand. “Like I said, I’m not sure of the exact story but-”

“She died?”

He cracked open an eye to stare at her, just as another wave washed over them. “You’re upset,” he said.

“Of course, I’m upset,” Lacey cried, smacking him. “You just told me ZoZo killed Mal’s daughter!”

He shifted, finding his feet in the sand beside her. He reached out to steady her as another wave crashed down around them. “It happens,” he said calmly. “It doesn’t mean it’ll happen to you.”

“I’m not worried about me,” she said, brushing his hand away.

He peered at her. “Then why are you upset?”

She swallowed, looking down at the blue green water as she collected her thoughts.

“If I have a child,” she said softly, “would they be a witch too?”

“Most like,” DoDo answered honestly. “It’s rare a witch has a son, and while boys do retain some magical ability, it is never as strong as in the female line. The daughters are almost always witches like their mothers.”

Lacey nodded, trying to keep her own mother’s memory at bay. “So, if I ever…”

“I don’t even want to think about you procreating,” DoDo said, and she looked up to say something terrible, only to notice him smiling at her. “Another quip.”

“A stupid quip,” she grumbled, trying to brush away the sudden rush of emotions the conversation had dredged up from nowhere. “Sorry, I don’t know why I’m getting all upset over this… I don’t even want kids.”

“It’s a witch thing,” DoDo said with a shrug. He tapped her stomach just above where the water lapped at her hips. “It’s as much part of you to preserve your line as it is to want a margarita.”

“Oh!” Lacey said, and with a snap of her fingers, two margaritas appeared in her hand. “Pineapple or Mango?”

He sighed, but reached for the mango. “Excellent use of magic to change the subject,” he said knowingly.

Lacey just reached down into the water, splashing him.

He blinked back at her, water dripping into his eyes from his now wet hair. “Oh, is that how it’s going to be?”

Minutes later, tidal waves the size of small buildings were crashing against each other, a demon sitting on top of a large wave, laughing maniacally while a witch hovered in the air above the water, sipping a margarita.

Another lovely day in Storybrooke.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone! Sorry that's nearly the end of August, life has taken a firm hand in delaying the House Guest, but here's a small chapter revisiting our two favorite dorks. 
> 
> Four more chapters until the Solstice! 
> 
> Next time: Mary Margaret opens up about her past and wonders about her future.


	47. Chapter 47

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter's dedicated to OBXJesse because she knows why.  
> \--
> 
> Combined a few different prompts all from the same person on this one- hope you guys don't mind-
> 
> 1\. Mary Margret and Lacey talk about Regina in the 80’s  
> 2\. Brad asks Lacey out and DoDo gets jealous  
> 3\. What's Leroy's place in all this?

_Tuesday, June 13th, 2016_

“And in fourth place, Better Late than Never!”

Leroy grunted in disgust as the emcee continued reading off the listings at Trivia Tuesday. “Why couldn't we just keep the original name?” he demanded sourily. HIs usual team, The Hi Ho’s, played religiously every week but due to a bad case of food poisoning, Leroy had been forced to improvise.

“Because you’re on a team with three women, and we think it’s funny,” Mary Margaret replied cheerfully. Lacey poured her friend another drink from the pitcher, before filling up her own. “Thanks, Lacey.”

“No problem,” Lacey said smoothly. She had enjoyed watching Mary Margaret finding interesting ways to avoid drinking all evening. She had so far knocked one beer over, poured one back in the pitcher when everyone was yelling at the emcee, and ‘accidentally’ dropped the team’s pencil in her last glass. Ruby, meanwhile, was staring moodily off into the distance, and had barely said a word since they arrived.

“Hey, sister,” Leroy said to Ruby, “how about you contribute a bit next round?”

Ruby ignored him, which considering how close it was the full moon, was probably the best scenario.

“That’s half time!” the emcee announced cheerfully. “Thirty minute break and we’ll pick up right where we left off!”

“Oh, goodie,” Ruby grunted. Luckily, Mary Margaret and Leroy didn’t hear her, too busy looking up various tidbits from the earlier round.

Lacey took the opportunity to lean over to Ruby. “Look, if you want to go…”

Ruby checked to make sure the rest of the table wasn’t listening, before sighing. “No, it’s just...my cycle lines up the full moon now too, so it’s just an all around hormonal, emotional, suckfest. Plus,” she held the phone up for Lacey to see the text screen,” Victor and Archie are driving me nuts.”

Victor had turned out to be a very needy zombie. Ruby and he had bonded over their situations, and despite sex being firmly off the table (“Ew, Lacey! He’s dead!”), the two of them had grown almost attached at the hip.

“Victor wants you to come over later?” Lacey read in disbelief. “To talk? Since when does Victor ‘talk’?”

Ruby shook her head, and lifted a finger. “Oh, it gets better,” she said before clicking Archie’s name to show his last message, or least part of it.

Lacey’s eyes widened. The therapist it seemed had enough of talking, though Lacey could have gone her entire life without knowing the carpets matched the drapes. “When did all this start?” Lacey asked. Archie would never send anything like that unless heavily encouraged, if not outright demanded. “Don’t play innocent, Ruby, I know Archie well enough to know he didn’t wake up this morning and decide to send a dick pic.”

Ruby winced. “I may sent a few first,” she admitted. At Lacey’s look, she clicked the phone shut to toss it back in her purse. “Okay, okay, it started in May, before I found out about Victor and I mean...we haven't actually...but…”

“I thought you didn’t like Victor like that?”

Ruby shrugged helplessly. “I don’t know! It’s just different with Victor. Archie’s sweet but Victor...Victor just gets it, you know?”

“What about Victor?” Both of them turned to find Mary Margaret listening intently. “Leroy went to the bathroom,” she told them.

“Victor’s a zombie,” Ruby said bluntly.

The answering curse of surprise was loud enough to cause a few tables to turn around and look at them. “I mean. oh my God!” Mary Margaret amended, at a much lower volume.

“Not God,” Ruby said, taking a large drink of her pilsner. She quickly explained the situation, while Lacey kept an eye out for Leroy. Luckily, the line to the bathroom was longer than usual.

“Geez,” Mary Margaret said, eyes wide as saucers. “So...Victor’s dead?”

“Yea,” Ruby sighed. “No pulse.”

“So, can he still…”

“Mary Margaret!” Lacey said in delighted shock. “Are you actually asking her that?”

“Of course I’m not!” the other woman responded, in self righteous outrage. “I was just...checking.”

Ruby laughed. “He claims he can, but it’s too weird.”

Mary Margaret nodded, but then proved once again she was more observant that she let on. “So, what about Archie?”

Ruby groaned, letting her head fall into hands. “It’s...complicated.”

“How?”

Before Ruby could respond, her phone started ringing incessantly. She fished it out of her purse, ignoring the other trivia patrons dirty looks and sighed when she saw the caller ID. “It’s Victor,” she said. “I’ll be right back.”

The two of them watcher her go, and Lacey just barely caught Mary Margaret switching out her untouched glass with Ruby’s now almost empty one. Since Leroy was still missing, Lacey decided to see if she could get Mary Margaret to spill the beans before she let on that she knew.

“So, Mary Margaret,” she said breezily, taking a drink of her own beer. “What’s new?”

Her friend smiled. “Well…”

Lacey leaned forward, fully expecting the schoolteacher to tell her all about the pregnancy.

“I dug up some old polaroids!”

Lacey blinked. She hadn’t been expecting that.

Mary Margaret was already reaching for her phone, pulling up her images and pushing it over to Lacey to see. “I thought you might want to see them.”

“Oh, my god,” Lacey breathed. Regina stood at what looked to be a fancy dinner party, with a high necked blue dress, puffy mutton sleeves and her short hair teased out a la Melanie Griffith. “Where did you get these?”

“Family album!” Mary Margaret said proudly, reaching over to swipe right. Another picture, this time of an older man and Regina at the town hall. Regina clutched red, red roses in her hands, her wedding dress a spitting image of Madonna’s Like a Virgin video and her makeup just as dramatic. The man looked equal parts proud, embarrassed and uncertain of the entire situation.

“Is that-?”

Mary Margaret’s smile faded a bit. “Yea, that’s my dad,” she said softly. “He died a year later.”

“I’m sorry,” Lacey said, remembering how she had felt when her mother died. “How old were you?”

“Twelve,” Mary Margaret said. “I think he married her because he wanted to make sure I had someone, you know, in case.”

“I was fourteen when my mother died,” Lacey replied. “I still had my dad but…”

Mary Margaret didn’t say anything, but squeezed her hand. Lacey quickly swiped to the next page, to see a young Mary Margaret smiling up at Regina adoringly, in a matching pant suit. Lacey couldn’t help the giggles.

“I know,” Mary Margaret sighed. “I thought she was the coolest. Begged her for an outfit just like that, and my dad finally convinced her it would be cute.” Regina’s photographed face did not seem to agree. She was looking off camera with a pained look, avoiding her mini me’s gaze. “I found out she was a witch around then,” Mary Margaret shared. “After that, she didn’t even bother to pretend to like me. Told me if I crossed her, she’d turn me into a toad.”

“Screw her,” Lacey grumbled. “You were a kid.”

“I was a liability,” Mary Margaret repeated, in a fairly accurate imitation of Regina. “She was stuck with me after Dad died, and vica versa.” Mary Margaret shrugged. “She moved us here when I was eighteen, and got me a job where she could keep an eye on me.”

“You don’t have a degree?”

Mary Margaret shot her a look. “Of course, I have a degree. I started out as a secretary at the school until I completed my bachelor’s online.”

“Five minute warning!” the emcee announced.

Mary Margaret's phone started buzzing in Lacey’s hand, David’s name flashing up on the screen. Lacey wordlessly handed it over, as her friend hopped up to join Ruby outside. “Be right back,” Mary Margaret said, hurrying out front.

“Men,” Lacey muttered.

“What about them?”

Lacey turned to see a familiar, and at the moment, very welcome face. “Brad!”

He smiled, indicating the seat Mary Margaret had just abandoned. “May I?”

“Please,” Lacey said, leaning over the table to bat her smile up at him. “What are you doing here?”

“Came in for a drink,” he said, nodding towards the bar. “Was about to leave when I saw it was trivia night, but I saw you and figured I’d say hello first.”

 “Glad you did,” Lacey said. “Though when I never heard from you after our dinner date, I just assumed you had run for the hills.”

He held up his hands up. “Wait, that was a date?”

“Of course it was a date,” Lacey scoffed. “What did you think it was?”

“You talked about your old roommate for half of it,” Brad said with a small shrug. “In my experience, when a woman talks about someone nonstop for two hours, even if she’s complaining about him, there’s something there. I just figured…”

“Oh! Oh, no,” Lacey said, holding up her own hands. “It’s not like that. We’re just...friends.”

“Just?”

“Just,” Lacey repeated firmly.

“Good,” he said, flashing a relieved smile. “So, I can ask you out properly then.”

Lacey had enjoyed their dinner back in the spring, though to be fair, she had been distracted by all the magical mischief at the time. Not that now was any better, but if she was going to die come Monday, she wanted to have a lot of sex before then. So, why not Brad?

“How about Saturday?” he suggested.

“Or tomorrow?”

He laughed. “Well, I wasn’t going to be too forward but perfect. Tomorrow it is.”

“Hey, sister, this guy bothering you?” Leroy had returned, and was scowling at Brad.

“No,” Lacey said, reaching up to lay a hand on Leroy’s tense arm. “Leroy, this is Brad. Brad, my friend Leroy.”

“Nice to meet you,” Brad said, but he did not outstretch his hand. Leroy grunted in reply. “Well, I suppose I should be going,” he said after an awkward pause. “Let you get back to trivia.”

“Yea,” Leroy grunted. “Good idea.”

“I’ll text you about tomorrow,” Brad said to Lacey, and then, with a small wave, he disappeared back through the crowd.

Leroy quickly took the abandoned chair, frowning after him. “Who was that creep?”

“Nobody,” Lacey lied. “What took you so long?”

Leroy’s face flushed. “Long line.”

“Oh?” Mary Margaret said, returning to the table with a flush on her face. “Or might it have something to do with the pretty girl I just saw leaving the alley while you slipped through the back door?”

Leroy choked on his beer.

Lacey, intrigued, scooted her chair forward. “What?” she demanded. “Leroy, you dog!”

“It’s not like that!” he said gruffly.

“Sure looked like it,” Ruby said, joining them. “Poor girl was nearly running when she passed me.”

“Who is she?” Lacey asked the two of them. “Anyone we know?” Both shook their heads, while Leroy put a death grip on his beer. “Hmm,” Lacey said thoughtfully, tapping her chin. “Leroy’s got a secret girlfriend…”

“She ain’t my girlfriend,” Leroy grumbled into his drink. “She’s just a...a friend.”

“Right,” Ruby said, frowning when she saw her glass was refilled. With a shrug, she drank it anyway. “The way you two were looking at each other? Not likely.”

“She was cute!” Mary Margaret reassured him. “We would have loved to meet her. Why didn’t she stay?”

“She’s a nun.”

Lacey blinked. “Excuse me?”

Leroy let out a string of obscenities under his breath. “She’s a nun,” he finally repeated. “Met her while I was doing some repairs at the covenant. She volunteers at the hospital on Tuesdays...and we meet outside during the half time to...talk before she has to get back.”

Lacey met the Ruby’s eyes across the table. The Church had seemingly left them alone for the most part, opting for a wait and see approach, but if a nun was spending time around Leroy...it was unlikely it was for his charming attitude.

“Leroy,” Mary Margaret started gently, “do you think this a good idea?”

“Two minutes!” the Emcee announced. “Cell phones away please!”

“Seriously, Leroy,” Lacey added. “A nun for Chrissakes?”

“You’re one to talk,” he shot back angrily. “You just agreed to go on a date with some weirdo, when everyone knows you’re got that weird thing going on with Gold.”

“What weirdo?” Mary Margaret asked, confused.

“You have a date?” Ruby whistled. “With who?”

Point to Leroy.

“His name is Brad,” she said finally. “Met him a while back around Christmas and he pops up from time to time.”

“I remember him,” Mary Margaret said with a frown. “He’s a little...intense, don’t you think?”

“No one is more intense than Gold,” Ruby corrected her, the subtext loud and clear.

Enough already!” Lacey exclaimed. “So what if I have a date with a guy tomorrow? I’m just going to screw his brains out and then I’m going to move on, like I always do.”

“What about Gold?” Mary Margaret asked.

“What about him?” Lacey demanded. Her friend shrugged, looking hastily away.

Before Lacey could smooth things over, Leroy chuckled. “Speak of the devil.”

Lacey turned to find DoDo approaching. He had his glamour in place, and even the mirrors reflected Gold’s now familiar face back to them. Ruby and Mary Margaret wisely kept silent as Gold joined them. He seemed to know he was being discussed, turning to Leroy with a pointed look.

“Leroy,’ he greeted, “nice to see you again.”

Leroy nodded, always a bit uncomfortable around Gold despite his gruff demeanor.

“What are you doing here?” Lacey demanded, but before he could answer, David appeared at his elbow.

“I invited them,” Mary Margaret said apologetically. “I hope that’s okay?”

“First question!” the emcee shouted as the chatter died down. “What are the ingredients to a Harvey Wallbanger cocktail?”

“Vodka, OJ, and galliano,” Lacey recited and Leroy grabbed for the pencil to jot it down. “Of course it is,” Lacey said, but she wasn’t sure she meant it.

“Well, I’m inviting Victor then,” Ruby announced, going for her phone.

“No phones!” Leroy snapped.”We’ll get disqualified.”

“Fine!” Ruby growled, crossing her arms. “But next time, I’m inviting him.”

“There ain’t going to be a next time, sister,” Leroy complained.

“Fun evening?” Gold whispered to her, and Lacey instinctively smiled.

“Ask Mary Margaret to see her family photos,” she answered with a wink. “I’m thinking of posting them on the city website.”

“What are you two whispering about?” David called out, and she broke away to find the table staring at them with knowing smiles.

“Merely the changing fads of fashion,” Gold replied smoothly.

“Hey, Lacey,” David said, shrugging out of his deputy jacket. “Before I forget, I was thinking about cooking a big dinner tomorrow night since I’m off duty, would you want to come over?”

“She can’t,” Leroy said, returning from turning in the answer. “She’s got a hot date tomorrow night.”

Gold went cold beside her. “A date?” he asked nonchalantly, looking down at her. “Who with?”

“Nobody,” Lacey said pointedly, raising her brows at him to indicate she didn’t want to talk about it.

“The answer is- Vodka, OJ, and galliano!” the emcee told the crowd. “Next question-”

Lacey didn’t hear it. “His name’s Brad,” Ruby said with disgust. “Looks like a Ken doll.”

“Ruby!”

“What?” Ruby said, shooting her a dark look. “It’s not like it’s a secret, you just told us five minutes ago you were going to go screw Brad’s brains out tomorrow.”

“What about you, Gold?” David asked, trying to talk over Ruby. “Still down for dinner tomorrow night?”

“We’ll see,” he said smoothly. He flicked a finger for the waitress. She hurried over, his glamour as powerful as ever apparently.

“Wait, what was the question?” David said to no one in particular.

“I’ll have a whiskey neat, three fingers,” Gold said as the waitress arrived, wiggling three of his fingers at her. The girl blushed crimson, as his voice turned his words into something much more suggestive.

“Hey!” Lacey said, elbowing him. “Don’t be gross.” He merely ignored her.

“Why! Aren’t you dirty as hell?” the waitress giggled. It was clear she didn’t mind in the least.

“Rather ironic really,” he said, leaning over to her. “That’s exactly where I’m from.”

Their server burst into laughter, and with a wink, hurried away to get his beverage. She passed two other tables who were trying to get her attention in her hurry to get to the bar. Lacey stared at Gold in disgust.

“Aubergine is another word for eggplant,” Mary Margaret said to the unheard question. Leroy handed the slip of paper over to her, obviously not interested in learning how to spell the word. She wrote it down, and got up to turn it into the emcee.

Lacey continued to scowl at Gold. “What?” he asked, turning to her with a raised brow.

“What’s with you?” she demanded, crossing her arms. “You come to trivia to pick up the wait staff?”

The rest of the table was pretending not to be listening, but failing miserably.

“I was invited,” Gold said chillingly. “Or don’t you remember?”

“Shit, you’re pissed,” Lacey realized in amazement. “Why?”

“Uh, guys?” David said from across the table. “You don’t know what occupation refers to it’s apprentices as devils, do you?”

“Printers,” Gold snapped. “And I’m not pissed.”

The waitress returned, holding a whiskey like the holy grail. “Here you are, sir,” she giggled, waiting for him to take it from her. Lacey reached up to snag it, tossing it back before Gold could so much as blink.

“Very like you,” Gold snapped as the waitress blinked in surprise. “Taking what you want without consideration,”

“Oh, cause you’ve never done anything selfish in your life?” Lacey shot back. “Call your son sometime if you need a reminder.”

Someone cleared their throat. Gold stared back at her, before he laughed. Lacey blinked in confusion, as he turned back to the group. “My apologies,” he said, standing. “I forgot I had a prior engagement.”

Before anyone could say something, he had turned to leave. The waitress, unsure of what just happened, turned to Lacey with a scowl. “Are you buying that?” she asked, indicating the empty glass.

Lacey ignored her, the emcee, and her friends. She followed after Gold, catching up with him just outside the Rabbit Hole. “Hey!”

He turned, and Lacey almost faltered at the anger burning on his face. “What?” he snapped.

“What the hell was all that about?” Lacey demanded.

“Nothing,” he replied, though if looks could kill, she’d be ten feet under by now. “Excuse me if I don’t want to spend an evening answering trivial questions for bar money.”

They stood out on the sidewalk, less than five feet away from each other, but it felt like miles.

“Are you...mad about Brad?”

He opened his mouth furiously, but just as suddenly as the fire had started, it died away. For an instant, she could almost see DoDo underneath the flesh, and her fingers reached out almost on their own to rest against his arm.

“DoDo?”

His eyes lingered on where her hand rested against his jacket. He did not pull away.

“DoDo,” Lacey repeated, taking a step closer. “I might not be here Tuesday...”

“Mortality is boring,” DoDo said, though his words lacked any real punch. “You wish to escape your fear through meaningless carnal intercourse.”

“Yea,” Lacey laughed hollowly. “That’s not unheard of.”

“No,” he agreed, eyes finding her’s. “It’s not.”

Her breath left her. Was he...was he suggesting...

“I should go,” he said, and before she could say anything, he disappeared from the street entirely, leaving her alone with her thoughts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this might go down as one of my favorite chapters to write. It reminded me a bit of the Mean Girls Halloween party, except with the stakes much much higher. 
> 
> Next time: Queenie decides to interfere.


	48. Chapter 48

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quick AN: So, last chapter, I saw a lot of reviews commenting on Gold's "flirting" and I'm really glad you guys shared your feelings with me on that score. I didn't delve too deeply into his reasonings because it was a Lacey POV chapter, but please let me clarify.
> 
> DoDo as Gold has always mirrored Lacey's behavior. She had just announced her plans to escape reality via meaningless sex, and his lewd behavior with the waitress was his way of trying to deflect his own feelings. Gold has no desire to sleep with the waitress (though he wouldn't mind reaping a soul- a demon doesn't change his spots overnight), nor was his goal to make Lacey jealous in response. He was simply mirroring Lacey's behavior in an attempt to avoid his own feelings. When that did not work, he bailed. 
> 
> Sorry it wasn't more clear, that was my intent writing it! Hopefully next POV chapter with Gold, I can touch on it. 
> 
> \--
> 
> Queenie decides to interfere.

 

_Wednesday June 14th, 2016_

By the time Lacey arrived home, it was a quarter past midnight. David had dropped her off in his squad car, after Mary Margaret had insisted that it was too late to be walking home alone. For once, Lacey hadn’t protested.

“Queenie, girl,” Lacey called, flipping the lights on as she entered her apartment. She dropped her keys on the table, pulling out her phone to see she had no missed calls or texts. She didn’t know what she had expected really.

A rustle and a curious meow announced Queenie’s presence as she hopped up onto the table. Lacey reached out to pet her, but the cat just sniffed at her fingers instead of her traditional headbutt. Allowing the familiar her curiosity, Lacey held her hand out patiently for a bit, then moved to scratch Queenie behind her ears.

Queenie hissed.

“Jesus,” Lacey muttered. “Not you too.”

For the rest of trivia and all the way home, all Lacey had been able to think about was DoDo. In any other relationship, his sudden coldness, his heavy handed flirting, and irrational anger would have all pointed towards jealousy. Except that would mean…

Lacey sat down in the chair at the table. Queenie continued to eye her in annoyance. “I didn’t stop and pet Pongo, Dragon, or any other strays,” Lacey told her tartly. “Don’t be such a prima donna.”

Queenie approached her, hopping down into her lap. Lacey’s hands automatically went up to pet her familiar, who purred, butting against her chest and rubbing her head underneath her chin. “Oh, okay,” Lacey laughed softly. “I see how it is.”

Scratching at the mismatched fur, Lacey let her mind wander for a minute.

First, her the center of her back flared to life. She was safe, she was independent, she was home.

Next, her navel tingled, her muscles relaxing further. She felt her own sexuality in all its power, felt the blood rushing through her veins and the heat of Queenie’s beneath her fingertips. She was alive, she was healthy, she was whole.

Third, her center warmed. She knew herself, believed in herself, and trusted herself.

On the heels of this, her chest grew lighter as her fourth center opened. Remembering the friends she had just left, she reminded herself that she was loved, appreciated and cared for. A year ago, she had barely been able to open her heart to her father, much less friends, and had kept everyone and everything at a safe distance. Now, she had a pet, best friends, and a community.

Her throat opened next. She hummed, enjoying the feeling of it as Queenie purred in answer in her lap. Her mind was clearing already, fear and doubt melting away like snow. She had admitted she was scared already, but the root of it had remained buried. Now, the truth was tangible.

“He’ll leave,” she told Queenie softly. “Just like Mal will, just like everyone does. They’ll leave me.”

Why wouldn’t they? They had lives outside of Storybrooke. Even Regina wouldn’t be able to stay for long, having chosen to be in the public eye, she couldn’t very well linger here for much longer without aging. No one was that unobservant these days.

Even her friends would age and change. Mary Margaret was about to be a mother, Ariel would one day as well, and Ruby...Ruby was a werewolf. What happened to her and Victor after they defeated ZoZo? No one had really been able to tell her, or hadn’t wanted to.

As these thoughts rolled in, her brow center woke slowly as if to answer them for her. Queenie’s soft purring intensified slightly, her mismatched eyes turning to stare up at Lacey.

“Oh,” Lacey murmured, hands pausing in Queenie’s fur. In front of her, she could see everything. The threads and ties spreading out from her own body, twisting in every direction. One linked her to Queenie in her arms, a strand humming with intensity at the moment. Another went straight downstairs where Mal slept, one went out the window and ended at her neighbor’s. That one was patched and frayed, but still there.

She let her eyes close, feeling through them all one by one. Mary Margaret, David, Leroy, Ruby, Granny, Ariel, Regina, Neal, and Papa all were solid, humming with a thousand moments and feelings.

None of them compared to DoDo’s. She knew it at once, two strands intertwined, burning bright white. It vibrated at such a frequency, it did not appear to be moving at all, but it radiated heat like a stove. So, engrossed in this discovery, she did not realize what was happening at first.

There were seven centers in a witch’s body. Lacey had never fully accessed them all at once, never able to concentrate properly to Mal’s frustration. Here and now, as she saw her entire life stretched out, the truths she had hidden, the ones she had missed and the ones yet to be told were at her fingertips.

Then, the a buzzing at the crown of her head jolted her out of it entirely.

Queenie yowled in protest as Lacey jerked to her feet, clasping her head as if to keep it in place. Queenie dropped to the floor, and immediately shot under the table, continuing her very loud, very angry protest.

“What the hell?” Lacey panted, as her zen disappeared as quickly as it came. “What in the actual hell was that?”

Someone began knocking at the door, startling Lacey even further. Trying to catch her breath, she stared at the door, then over to the clock where the time read 4:55.

“Lacey!” Mal’s voice came from behind the door. “Shut your familiar up this minute or so help me-”

Lacey undid the wards around the door, and Mal did the rest. Unlocking the door with ease, she swooped in to find Lacey wide-eyed and hyperventilating, staying upright only through white knuckling the chair she had been sitting on moments earlier.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Mal sighed, but she somehow managed to get Lacey seated, a warm cup of tea in her hands, and a blanket around her shoulders. Queenie, she locked in the bathroom. It didn’t do much, as Queenie was still yowling angrily, but it dulled it somewhat.

“It won’t keep her for long,” Mal said, sitting down beside her, “but it’ll give you a moment to catch your breath. What on earth did you do to your familiar?”

“Me?” Lacey gasped. “I was just petting her and then…” She indicated her centers with a vague wave of her hand.

“Ah, she focused your energy,” Mal said, sitting back with a knowing smile. “Forced your hand. Clever little cat. You probably didn’t even realize she was doing it.”

Lacey shook her head. “I was channeling my centers...using the technique you showed me of using my familiar to…”

Mal laughed. “Yea, she even had you thinking it was your idea. Now, tell me, what did you do to make your cat interfere like that?”

Lacey shrugged. “I didn’t do anything! I came home from trivia, and one minute she’s pissed and the next she’s in my lap purring like there’s no tomorrow.”

Mal’s eyes flickered over to the calendar on the wall, eyeing the heavily circled date of June 20th, which was still four days away. “Did you see anything?” Mal asked. “She was trying to show you something.”

Lacey shrugged, looking away. She hadn’t seen anything she hadn’t already known, and she didn’t feel like discussing her life with Mal at five in the morning regardless.

“I almost opened my crown,” Lacey confessed, reaching up to gently touch the spot.

Mal’s eyes widened, impressed. “It’s rare for witches to do so without help,” she reminded Lacey. “And dangerous. Most witches go a little mad with the knowledge the crown can reveal.”

“Have you?”

Mal nodded. “Seers are able to open it through our own scrying. I have seen terrible and great things, but my experience tempers the knowledge. Others have seen beyond their own understanding, and it changes them, often for the worse. It is why it is the most feared and coveted ability of a witch.”

“Can Regina do it?”

Mal opened her mouth to say something but then shrugged. “Regina, like her mother before her, is a very powerful witch. It would not surprise me if she’s able to open her crown center, though she has never confided in me that she has.”

“Well, I know the Nun hasn’t,” Lacey said, trying to crack a joke. “Or else I’d be locked up in the Church’s dungeons by now.”

Queenie started to scratch at the door, her yowls growing into angry hissing.

Mal ignored it. “Reul is not to be taken lightly,” she said sharply. “If she’s been biding her time, there’s a reason. Fraternizing with demons is one thing, witches have done it for millennia. Hell, a few have even slept with them, as scores of halfbreeds on this earth can prove but none of them have ever actually dared to love a demon.”

Lacey wanted to protest, wanted to repeat what she had told Brad just last night, but the words didn’t come. Instead, the link she had just seen, the one burning bright white, two strands wrapped around each other like snakes, felt heavy in her hands once more. She looked down, expecting to see it again.

“Well, I guess you did see something after all,” Mal said, though her voice sounded more defeated than smug. “Yesterday you would have said something idiotic in reply to that.”

The spitting, hissing and scratching stopped abruptly, and as calm as you please, Queenie jumped up into Lacey’s lap, curling up and purring contentedly. The door to the bathroom was still closed and locked.

“I don’t...do I?”

Mal stood. “You need sleep,” she said simply. “You’re drained, and if you don’t get some rest, you’ll be worthless come Monday.”

“Mal, have you ever loved somebody?”

Mal stopped in the doorway, and exhaled slowly, her shoulders deflating. “Once,” she said. “Though it was not the kind of love you’re asking about.”

Lily.

“He told me about...your daughter.”

Mal nodded, but did not turn around. “He shouldn’t have done that,” she said, though she did not sound angry. “Though I suppose the timing is apt.”

Lacey didn’t understand. “Timing?”

Mal turned back to her, and for a moment, it was as if she was looking through her, at someone else. “The last time I opened my crown, I was pregnant. I saw my daughter’s body at the feet of a demon. She was young and fair, and dead before her time. When she was born, I left her to strangers here in this new world, hoping that she would grow up safely, not realizing what she was.”

Mal glanced over to where _The Modern Guide to Witchcraft and Wizardry_ sat open on Lacey’s coffee table. “As it turned out, she found herself regardless.”

Lacey did not know what to say.

“When you appeared in my parlor, I thought for a moment…”Mal smiled. “You don’t look a thing like her, but you were alone too, with a demon’s fingerprints all over your heart. For a moment, you were Lily.”

Before Lacey could process that, Mal was gone.

As Lacey moved towards her own bed, she thought about Lily, a stranger who had died long before she had been born. Had she known she didn’t belong? Had she been searching for something to fill the gap left by her true mother’s absence? Or had she been drunk one night, and summoned the wrong demon into her life by pure accident?

She fell into bed, still dressed. Queenie scooted out her arms, but curled up beside her under the blankets. “You tired too?” Lacey said, her words slurred by exhaustion. Queenie blinked scornfully at her, but ruined it by yawning midway. “I think she spiked the tea with sleeping powder,” Lacey confided to her familiar.

She rolled on to her back, and threw a hand out to make sure the wards were still in place. Confident that they were, she closed her eyes, and sunk deep into Morpheus's waiting arms.

She did not dream.

\--

When she woke, it was still dark outside.

“Hmm,” she groaned, rolling over. Queenie mewed, having decided sometime in their nap to sit almost directly on top of Lacey’s head. Brushing fur out of her nose, Lacey reached for her phone on the night table, yawning hugely as she pressed the home button.

7:57, it read.

Underneath it was a slew of missed calls, texts, and voicemails.

Lacey blinked. It wasn’t even eight yet-

Oh.

Oh!

Lacey sat upright. She had slept all day! She hurried through the chain of message, grumbling to herself about her own stupidity.

Ruby had called twice, left a voicemail (Lunch?) and send a text about being ignored.

Ariel had texted her about getting together over the weekend.

Mary Margaret had called three times, left three voicemails and sent nearly ten texts. All were about being worried, was she okay, and that Gold hadn’t returned home last night.

No messages from DoDo.

Neal had sent her a snapchat, his own way of checking up on her.

And an unknown number who she assumed was Brad had texted at noon asking what time she wanted to grab dinner.

“Fuck,” she grumbled, and she shot him a reply back first.

**Brad, shit, I just woke up from sleeping all day. Must have gotten food poisoning last night.**

She added a sick emoji but did not offer to reschedule. If he called her back, she’d figure something out, but right now, she had more pressing business to tend to. She padded to the bathroom, Queenie hot on her heels.

It was almost ten by the time she got out of the shower. She had thrown on oversized t-shirt from one of her old conquests, and was just coming out of the bathroom, deciding between Gepetto’s or Shang’s when she stopped dead.

On the couch, in his usual form, DoDo sat as if he had never left. Even Queenie, the little traitor, was curled up in his lap, purring happily. In front of him, there was a pizza, two glasses of red wines and-

“Are those roses?”

Dodo moved Queenie off his lap, before standing. “Peace offering,” he said. “For your date tonight. I thought...you might appreciate it.”

Lacey stared at him in amazement. “You brought me pizza, wine and roses for my date with Brad?”

He nodded. “You mentioned previously...your favorite time to eat pizza is...post-coital. I assumed that in your plans for the evening, it would come in handy.”

“The wine?” Lacey asked, stepping forward.

He shrugged. “Wine is always a good idea.”

“And the roses?” Lacey moved closer until the couch was the only thing between them.

He cleared his throat, and Lacey had to resist a smile. “Decoration.”

“I canceled the date,” Lacey said before he could continue. “Well, I actually slept through it.”

Now, he took a step closer, peering at her intently. “Why, are you sick?”

Lacey chuckled. “No, Queenie just decided to be impossible last night.”

DoDo shot a look over to where Queenie was, and the cat stared back up at them innocently.

“So, you’re okay?” he asked. “Because you have to be in top condition come Monday or-”

Before he could finish, Lacey wrapped him in a hug. He went stock still for a moment, before slowly relaxing. His arms went about her tentatively, as if he was not sure how to hug. Lacey buried her face in his shoulder to hide her smile.

After about a minute, he spoke. “About last night…”

She did not want to talk about last night. She wanted to eat pizza, drink wine, and spent time with the one person who simultaneously made her crazy, and happy all at the same time. “Hey, do you want to a watch a few episodes of Happy Endings?” she asked. “I’m really behind.”

Though slightly bewildered, he nodded.

Tuesday, Lacey thought as she headed to her usual seat on the couch, grabbing a slice of pizza on the way, she'd deal with this Tuesday.

She did not see her phone light up, so she missed Brad’s call, too busy laughing at DoDo’s sullen face as she pointed out his favorite character had been asleep for four episodes in a row now.

\--

Elsewhere, the other demon of Storybrooke waited. The summer solstice was fast approaching, but he could be patient, their time was running out.

 

As for tonight, he would hunt. 

As if in response, a car drove by where he lurked in the shadows. A law enforcement vehicle, lights off as it cruised quietly along the streets. He grinned to himself, before stepping out from the alley. He raised his hand up, holding his side with his other, limping slightly as he tried to get the driver's attention. 

It worked.

Lights flashed on, the patrol car slowed before stopping all together. 

Souls were easy to reap, he had no need of them anymore. Death was much more intoxicating, mortals cried so nicely as they died. 

"Hey," the officer said, rolling his window down. "Are you okay?"

He recognized this face. He had seen the little witch with him just the other day, one of her little friends. 

This would be sweet. 

"The alley," he panted, gesturing widely back to where he had just come. "Some guy jumped me, and my girlfriend. She's...she's hurt really bad."

The officer reached for his radio, calling for backup but it just fizzed and squawked back at him as unseen magic rendered it dead. 

"Please," he repeated. "She's just over there-"

The officer nodded, risking one more look at the radio before hurrying out of the car. His face was concerned. "Lead the way," the fool told him, putting a hand on his shoulder. "It's going to be okay."

He had no idea.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Back to the basics on this one. 
> 
>  
> 
> Next time: Lacey gets reaaaal drunk


	49. Chapter 49

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so this technically takes place in Chapter 48 while Lacey is asleep, and is more of a fill in than an actual chapter but I also wanted to show off the FANTASTICALLY AMAZING BEAUTIFUL artwork Nia-Nita made for the last chapter so, oh well. 
> 
> Prompt: Is DoDo is surprised by the amount of jealousy he had when he found out about Lacey's date or is he in denial?

_ _

_God, I love you guys. Look at his bathing suit and his little nose and her happily going to town on her margarita. Bless._

 

_Wednesday June 14th, 2016_

Brad.

Who the dickens named their child Brad? It was like asking for them to turn out like a psychopathic egomaniac.

Rumplestitlskin flicked a piece of invisible lint off the arm of his wingback, scowling at the wall. He had gone back to the Dark Castle, knowing full well David Nolan would come home and “want to talk”. For a grown man, the deputy sheriff was much too interested in how other people felt.

Yet, plenty of time had passed and even though cell service was not too bad down here, his phone remained silent.

Rationally, he knew the entire thing was ridiculous. Mortals sought comfort in each other’s beds all the time, and witches, he snorted, witches were ten times worse than mortals when it came to their appetites. Some like Regina craved adrenaline rushes, while others like Mal wanted accolades and respect. Lacey… Lacey craved something much more common.

Did she realize it? Did she know what she was seeking in those fumbles in the dark?

Love; acceptance; someone to know and have them truly know her in return.

Obvious as those ridiculous big blue eyes of hers, he thought grumpily. Ever since she had accepted him in her life, her sexual olympics had deceased. Sure she had blamed it on him being underfoot all the time, and yes, he had been in the process of getting her soul so he hadn’t made it easy on her, but still. If she had still needed to find release at other people’s hands, she could have continued regardless, but she hadn’t.

He had not stopped her, would not have judged her (well might have poked a little fun at her but). He couldn’t have if he wanted to, a witch was powerful in her own right, and a witch like Lacey…forget it. He would have stood a better chance ridding the underworld of demons completely than stop a woman like Lacey from finding a sexual partner.

She was irresistible when flush with confidence. A beauty by birth, she had accented her own birthright with an unforgettable personal style, an air of mystery, and the alluring aura that was a witch’s innate talent. As a mortal, she was a knockout. As a witch, no one else had ever stood a chance. .

He wrinkled his brow guiltily, trying to clear his mind of Lacey and sex. It did not immediately cooperate.

It’s nothing, he reminded himself. A meaningless lay. Brad wold not offer her what she needed. How could h? A witch like Lacey needed a partner who understood her complexities, accepted of her shortcomings, respected her flaws and applauded her talents.

“Brad,” he scoffed to himself. “Probably doesn’t even know what a clitorois is.”

This amused him, and he let out a soft chuckle at his own quip. No, he was being ridiculous. She had just surprised him was all. Her seeking comfort in sex was fitting to Lacey, she excelled in it, was comfortable with it, and understood the power in her sexuality.

But with Brad?

There lied the rub, he thought sourly. She had chosen some no one, some mere mortal.

He stood, and began to pace. He had handled it poorly. He had attempted to be nonchalant about it, mirroring her own meaningless flirtations in a display of his own power. But somehow that had backfired. The entire table had…felt bad for him.

He gagged in disgust, shuddering as he remembered the pity the mortals had shown him. Him! The Dark One!

His temper had frayed, his own nervousness and ensuing annoyance at said nervousness fueled the fire until he had snapped.

Come Tuesday, she had said. Well, she was not the only one in that boat. He didn’t see any of those running around letting their fear drive them-

He stopped, and looked down at himself.

Except he was doing that.

“Fiddlesticks,” he growled to himself. He had no right to be surprised or disappointed by her choices. She was a witch. He was a demon. They both had their own roles to play, so what had he expected?

For her to choose me, some little voice whispered, for her to turn to me.

Yet, he had never let her know she could. He had kept her at arm’s length for so long…denying his own truths even as he had been increasingly frustrated with her ignoring hers.

“Fine,” he said aloud, stomping back over to the chair. “You’re an idiot, Rumplestitlskin,” he said to himself. “First things, first, apologize.”

He looked over at his phone, still silent. It would be nearly five o’clock back in Storybrooke, but knowing Lacey she would schedule the date slightly later in the evening. He grinned a bit, and sat back down in his chair, steepling his fingers as he thought it over.

Maybe if he just popped by around eight…in demon form…with pizza.

And wine.

Yes, that would do nicely for an apology.

Maybe roses.

After all, they both might be dead come Tuesday. It was now or never.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> By the way, thank you for all being such fabulous readers. I love hearing from you and if you ever want to drop by (waves at Shy Lil'Toast) please feel free! This story is only half as good as the prompts you came up with, and you guys sent so many great ones that this story evolved from a 3's company with a demon to a supernatural epic. Thank you for that. This story is near and dear to my heart. 2 more chapters until season finale!


	50. Chapter 50

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Lacey gets real drunk and reflects on her life.

_Friday June 18th, 2016_

Archie looked at the untouched beer before him, then back down. Lacey sat across from him, in her usual spot, Pongo in her lap. “I’m not leaving until you drink it,” she said, scratching just the right spot behind the dog’s ear.

Archie’s ears went red, but he reached for the beer. Careful not to look at her, he started to chug the beer, throat working masterfully. Within a few moments, he slammed the beer bottle back on the table. It was empty. “There,” he gasped, and he blinked owlishly as the beer hit his stomach. “Now, can you leave?”

“I said have a beer with me,” Lacey corrected, “not shotgun one.” She reached down to the six pack at her feet. With a twist of her fingers, she uncapped the bottle magically and slid it over to him. He looked pained, but with a sigh, he accepted it.

“How’s life?”

Archie shrugged. “Not what it used to be.”

Lacey smiled. “Yea, I know what you mean.”

Another awkward silence followed. Pongo whined slightly.

“He misses you,” Archie said abruptly. He started to worry the label on his beer, and save for the few wrinkles around his eyes, for a moment, Lacey could almost believe it was all those years ago, the first night she had come over with a six pack, determined to meet her neighbor who kept leaving her passive aggressive notes in her mailbox.

“I missed you guys too,” Lacey said, taking a drink of her own beer. “Ruby’s been keeping me in the loop but...it’s not the same.”

Archie wavered, his desire to tell her off at war with his usual good nature. Lacey sat patiently.

“This is ridiculous,” he snapped, lowering the bottle though he did not place it back on the table. “Lacey, you’ve been irresponsible, immature and reckless since I’ve met you but ever since this whole...witch business, the entire town has gone crazy!”

“Technically, most of the town was already crazy,” Lacey pointed out. “We had a witch for a mayor and some ghosts before I even moved here.”

He shot her a look. “Yes, and now there’s two more witches, some questionable nuns, two demons and an accidental werewolf.”

“Victor Whale’s a zombie,” Lacey added. “Didn’t Ruby mention?”

At the mention of Ruby, something flickered on Archie’s face, but he quickly hid it. “Ruby’s not the point.”

“Isn’t she?” Lacey asked, leaning forward. Pongo huffed but shifted obligingly. “Ever since she was bitten, you’ve been pissed off at me. And I’ll remind you once again, I didn’t technically do anything.”

“Yea,” Archie snapped. “You didn’t do a thing. You let your best friend get bitten by a demonic entity and then sat around and moped about your own problems for months.”

Lacey resisted the urge to snap back. She took a deep breath before continuing. “If I had known, I would have been there. For her. For you. ”

“Would you have?” Archie replied, his tone implying he knew she wouldn’t have. “Lacey, you have never dealt with your problems.” He nodded towards the six pack at her feet. “You’ve drowned them, run away from them, or ignored them.”

“I’ve screwed a few too,” Lacey said, her voice tight. “Let’s not forget that.”

 

Archie sighed, some of the fight leaving him. “What I’m trying to say is...you don’t have the best track record at responsibility.”

He was right. He knew it, she knew it, hell everyone knew it.

“That’s why I’m here,” Lacey said, taking a swig of her own beer. The chilling charm was lastning nicely, her palm still tingling pleasantly as the June heat outside grew even warmer. It was little past twelve, and while day drinking was not Archie’s forte, he had begrudgingly let her in when she reminded him she could enter with or without his agreement. “I want to make sure you and I are okay….before Monday.”

Archie’s fingers tightened on his bottle. “Monday’s the full moon.”

“Summer Solstice,” Lacey clarified. “We think the other one’s going to make his move.”

Archie paled, his freckles standing out comically. He took another drink, and another. “I have a conference Monday…”

“In Boston,” Lacey said, nodding. “I know, I was the one who made sure you were invited.”

His eyes grew larger at that. “How-?”

Lacey waved a hand. “It’s not important. What matters is, you’ll be far enough away if something goes wrong.”

“What about-”

“Regina worked on some potion to keep Ruby asleep for the moon cycle, but she has to stay with her during it to keep it effective.”

“I meant what about you?”

A small, fond smile tugged at her lips. “I’m going to send a demon back to hell, or wherever he came from,” Lacey said softly. “With the help of another demon who has a significant interest in reruns of bad television and pizza to ensure the continuation of the world as we know it.”

“You trust him?” Archie asked, and it was there, in that question, that Lacey realized she had never really lost her friend.

She nodded. “Yea,” she said, and drank the last of her beer. “With my life.”

\--

“This is stupid.”

“Shut up and drink your beer,” Lacey advised, lifting a finger towards her computer screen. Neal’s face stared back at her, though at a slight lag.

He sighed, but did as instructed. Lacey smiled and followed suit.

“How’s the roommates?” Lacey asked, and Neal’s long suffering sigh was answer enough.

“Jefferson’s disappeared,” he said with a sigh. “Been gone for a few days now, which isn’t unusual but…”

He didn’t have to say anything more. Lacey made a note to ask DoDo if the jumper was off on one of his errands.

“Cruella’s had a friend round,” Neal continued, eyeing off camera as if the other halfbreed would appear any moment. “A lady friend…”

Lacey made a face of interest. “I thought she had the hots for your dad?”

Neal scoffed. “Cruella likes anyone who says no to her. Plus, I think she mainly just enjoys watching Papa squirm.”

Lacey laughed. “Yea, it is pretty fun watching him in the hot seat,” she admitted, clearly picturing the few times she had gotten the upper hand. The kiss in front of Cruella being one of the ones that came to mind first. When she returned her gaze to the camera, Neal was looking back at her with some bewilderment. “What?” she demanded self consciously, reaching up to check her hair.

“Nothing,” he said, shaking his head. “Just for a minute there, I don’t know you looked...happy or something.”

“Oh hey!” Lacey said, remembering the gossip she wasn’t supposed to know. “You’ll never believe who’s pregnant!”

“Mary Margaret,” he answered with a sly smile. “I’ve known for a while actually.”

Sometimes it was zero fun being friends with magical beings. Lacey took another drink.

\--

“Thanks again for inviting me!” Mary Margaret said, though by the way she was looking around Castle Bar, she wasn’t thrilled. Despite the June heat, she was wearing a jacket over her empire dress, and her usual rosy cheeks were almost fire engine red from the heat.

“You sure you don’t want to check your coat?” Lacey asked.

“Nope!” Mary Margaret said cheerfully, and then swallowed. She forced a smile on her face. “Should we get a drink?”.

“They have table service here you know,” Lacey teased her as she steered her towards a table in the back.

Mary Margaret seemed distracted, and made a noise of agreement without really listening. “Hey,” Lacey said, reaching out for her friend’s hand. “Everything okay?”

Mary Margaret looked around then clapped her hands to her mouth. “I think he’s going to break up with me!”

Lacey blinked. “David?”

“Yes of course, David,” Mary Margaret said, her tone growing testy. “Who do you think I meant? Leroy?”

Reminding herself that Mary Margaret was pregnant, Lacey resisted being testy right back. “I’m sure he’s not-”

“I am,” Mary Margaret groaned. “I haven’t heard from him since the other night. It’s not at all like him….”

Lacey tried to look thoughtful. “Maybe work’s been busy?”

Mary Margaret shot her a look. “It’s not that. I think..I think he found out... I mean I was going to...I was going to tell him I was pregnant.”

Lacey’s eyebrows shot up, her hand went to her mouth. It was a performance Sandra Bullock would have been proud of. “Oh my god, you’re-”

“Don’t,” Mary Margaret growled, lifting a finger to jab her in the chest. “Neal texted me. I know all about Gold telling you, that nosy little imp.”

Before Lacey could defend herself or Gold, a waitress appeared over them. Lacey ordered a malbec, while Mary Margaret ordered a Shirley Temple. Satisfied no one could see under the table, she shed her jacket with some relief.

“So, you think David found out?” Lacey asked. Mary Margaret nodded miserably, a hand going to her stomach. “Okay, so you maybe you should have told him sooner.”

“The world might end Monday,” Mary Margaret sighed. “Excuse me if I wanted to spend my possible last weeks with the man I love without having to worry about,” she gestured at her stomach, “this.”

Considering Lacey was four beers in already, she took a hefty drink of her wine before responding. “I don’t think David’s going to break up with you,” Lacey assured her friend. “He’s crazy about you.”

“Yea, and I’ve been a crazy person ever since I found out I was knocked up.” Lacey had to stifle her giggles at this, and Mary Margaret kicked at her halfheartedly under the table. “It’s not funny!” she said sternly, though her lip twitched a bit too. “I’m a ruined woman.”

“You’re going to be a wonderful mom,” Lacey said, just as the waitress returned with their drinks. “So, do you know the sex yet?”

Mary Margaret smiled. “A girl. I’m thinking about naming her Emma.”

\--  
Walking into Granny’s, Lacey raised a hand to wave at the proprietor. Granny waved her towards her usual booth. Within seconds of sitting, Ruby plopped down across from her.

“Perfect timing,” her friend said, sliding a milkshake across the table. The smell of rum was nearly tangible in the air between them. “I made the usual.”

It was an old trick. Granny didn’t allow Ruby to drink while on the clock, but she didn’t know about Ruby’s famous Pina Colada Milkshake. Lacey hid her grin by slurping as much shake as she could in one breath.

“Mm,” Lacey sighed happily, sitting back as Ruby grabbed the shake. “Its gotten much better since those first few.”

“Practice,’ Ruby said, smacking her lips as she finished her own slurp. A wince followed immediately after, and Lacey grinned. “Brain freeze,” Ruby groaned, eyes squeezed shut.

“More for me,” Lacey crowed, and fished the shake back.

Ruby let it go, though she cracked an eye open to glare at her. “No fair,” she grumbled. “Magically avoiding brain freezes.”

Lacey shrugged. “Perks of being a witch.”

“There aren’t any perks to being a werewolf,” Ruby sighed, leaning forward on her elbows. “Unless you count a heightened sex drive.”

Lacey laughed, idly toying with the straw. “Speaking of sex, Archie’s looking mighty peakish these days.”

Ruby smiled guiltily. “He’s been very understanding.”

“He’s been very patient you mean,” Lacey teased. “Is Victor still…?”

Ruby nodded morosely, and Lacey slid the shake back across to the table to her friend. “Yea, well, it’s just Victor’s already dead so...and I’ve become very fond of Archie but I’m a werewolf...what if I…”

“You aren’t going to bite him,” Lacey said firmly. Ruby looked away, so Lacey reached out to grab her hand. “You aren’t,” she repeated when Ruby met her eyes.

“How do you know that?” Ruby whispered. “You don’t know what it’s like. You were always a witch, you just didn’t know it. I...I become something else. I’m not...me anymore.”

“‘Couse you are,” Lacey told her. “You’re the strongest woman I know. You’ve never been afraid of anything, and you’ve always known exactly who you were. Some demon asshat clown didn’t change that.”

“No,” Ruby said, taking her hand away. “A curse did.”

A silence fell, one reminiscent of the the long months they had not spoken. Ruby was slipping away, retreating behind walls she had built out of fear. Lacey reached for the shake, and without thinking, downed it one gulp.

Ruby looked at her in amazement, and Lacey resisted the urge to use magic as the biggest brain freeze of her life immediately hit her like a ton of bricks.

“OW!” She exclaimed, her head falling into her hands as the entire restaurant turned to stare at the noise. “FUCK!”

Ruby’s laughter was well worth it though.

-

"Hey Papa. Sorry, I know it's kind of late, but I was just calling to say...hi. No, no, I'm fine, can't a daughter just call her father to say hello? Yes, well I know I don't usually do it but...yea, well, how's Florida?"

\--

 

“Another.”

Propped up on the bar stool at the Rabbit Hole, Lacey smiled crookedly as Leroy handed her another shot. “Down the hatch, sister,” he said, lifting his own amber glass of tequila. Lacey clinked her’s against it obligingly, and tossed it back before it could get too comfortable.

“What’s that?” she asked, shaking her head slightly as the tequila hit her system.

“Four,” Leroy grumbled, pouring another. He had ordered the entire bottle, and when Lacey had asked about it, he had grumbled something about the death of a dream. They had been drowning their individual sorrows ever since. “My turn. Never Have I Ever told someone ‘I love you’.”

Lacey snorted and let her glass stay where it was. Leroy lifted a skeptical eyebrow. “Nope,” Lacey said with a shrug. “Never loved someone like that.”

Leroy shook his head. “I wish I had said it,” he said more to himself than her. “For all the good it would have done me.” Lacey lowed her glass an inch, but he shot her a withering look. “Play the game, sister, or go home,” he growled.

“You’re a real grump, Leroy,” Lacey sighed, but shook her head and tried to focus. “Never Have I Ever…”

“Lacey!”

Startled, Lacey almost dropped her shot as a sudden warmth nearly tackled her off the barstool. When she nearly choked on long red hair, she realized Ariel had her in a tight embrace.

“Oh, I’m so glad you’re here,” Ariel said, pulling away finally. Lacey’s vision was slightly blurry at this point, having been drinking for several hours, but she managed to focus on the other woman by sheer force of will. Ariel was beaming, fingers clutching Lacey’s shoulders tight enough to bruise.

“Ariel,” Lacey greeted, turning slightly to see Eric had joined them. Leroy muttered a greeting darkly, but the couple didn’t seem to mind his mood. “What are you guys doing here?”

Ariel was bouncing up and down, lips pressed together as if trying to keep from blurting something out. Lacey looked to Eric for help. He too looked rather pleased.

“I just had to tell you in person, and I knew you’d be here on a Friday night,” Ariel gushed, clapping her hands together in front of her chest as if she had just won the lottery. Lacey peered at her in good humored confusion, and Ariel repeated the gesture.

“Tell me what?” Lacey finally said, shaking her head slightly.

Ariel made a speechless noise, and thrust her left hand. Despite the relative darkness of the Rabbit Hole, the glimmering emerald with diamond setting sparkled in the neon lights. “We’re engaged!” she squealed when Lacey did not immediately reply, and threw her arms back round Lacey. “I’m getting married!”

Once Ariel had calmed down enough, Leroy poured the newly engaged couple shots before excusing himself to the bathroom. Lacey watched as he waddled out of the back door, and was torn between going after him and staying to listen to Ariel’s story.

As it turned out, she didn’t have much of a choice. Ariel held her hand the entire time, telling her every detail as Eric dutifully bought the next round of drinks. By the time midnight hit, Ariel had yet to slow down.

“And then, he took my hand in his, and I was crying by this point but-”

“Ariel,” Eric laughed, interrupting the second telling of the story. “Didn’t you want to call your dad before it got too late?”

“Oh!” Ariel exclaimed, and immediately fumbled for her purse. “Oh, no! Shoot, quick, what time is it in Cleveland?”

As Ariel hurried off to make her call, Eric paid the tab, glancing at her from the corner of his eye. “You okay to get home?” he asked carefully.

Lacey grinned at him, toasting him with the remnants of her current beer. “You’re a good guy, Eric,” she slurred slightly. “I’m happy for you two.”

Eric nodded, glancing at where his fiance was yelling into the phone by the pool tables. Luckily, the regulars seemed more amused than annoyed, and one even lifted his beer towards Eric in congratulations. “I was waiting for the perfect moment,” he confessed. “And tonight, she just looked at me and...I knew it was now or never.”

Lacey swallowed. “You really love her, don’t you?”

Eric looked down at her, as if remembering she was there. “Yea,” he said, nodding solemnly. “I really do.”

Lacey forced a smile. It felt wrong even to her drunk ass. Concerned, Eric laid a hand on her shoulder. “You sure you’re okay?” he asked, voice low. “I could get you a cab home?”

Lacey shook her head and stood, thankful when her legs took her weight. “Nah,” she said, putting her bottle down on the bar. “I’m good. Tell Ariel...congrats again for me, okay?”

Waving goodbye to Ariel, too excited telling the story for the third time to notice, Lacey slipped out of the bar and into the night air.

“You’re drunk.”

Lacey let her weight slump against DoDo who immediately wrapped an arm around her waist to support her. “Hey you,” she said in relief. “Walk me home?”

“It’d be quicker to use magic.”

“No,” Lacey shook her head. “I want some fresh air.”

“You smell like a distillery,” he said though his tone lacked any venom. “Have you been drinking all day?”

Lacey nodded enthusiastically. “Made up with Archie, checked in with Neal, caught up with Mary Margaret, spent time with Ruby, bonded with Leroy, and celebrated with Ariel.”

“And you needed alcohol to do all that?”

Lacey shook her head, and had to stop as it made her extremely dizzy. DoDo paused as well, and when the spins did not relent, she let her head drop to his shoulder. This was slightly uncomfortable as her heels put her nearly a head taller than he was at the moment. He sighed, and her shoes disappeared from her feet. The pain in her legs and her neck instantly lessened and she sighed in contentment.

“Don’t need alcohol for a good time,” she mumbled into his hair, “but it helps.”

“You’re three sheets to the wind,” he said in disbelief.

Lacey groaned, and pressed her face into his chest. He immediately shut up, his other arm going around her as if to hold her upright. “Dodo,” she whispered into his lapel. “Ariel’s engaged.”

“Good for her,” DoDo said drily. “I’ll send a toaster.”

Lacey chuckled, raising a hand to fist his jacket in her hand. She raised her head up to look at him, and found him near enough for their noses to brush. “She’s so happy,” she said, tears pooling in her eye. “They love each other so much, DoDo.”

He didn’t make a comment about her breath or her overall emotional breakdown. He just stood there, staring back at her, listening. Lacey sniffled. “She was sitting there, telling me about how they’re going to have a destination wedding, and all I could think was...what if I let her down? What if I fuck up and then-”

“Don’t.” Lacey inhaled sharply as DoDo’s arms tightened around her until she was pressed firmly against him. “Come what may on the Solstice, you’re one of the most powerful witches I have ever encountered, Lacey French. When you aren’t being maudlin and smearing mascara on three thousand dollar jackets, you are utterly magnificent. Between the two of us, there is nothing to fear, and I am not going anywhere.”

She let her head fall back down to his chest, and closed her eyes as the tears came in earnest. He stroked her hair, and to any passerby, it would look like a couple in an embrace.

To Lacey, it was the first time all day she had felt understood.

To the demon holding her, it was the first time in possibly forever, he felt what it meant to love.

“DoDo?”

“Hmm?”

“Thank you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this chapter was a reflection of Lacey's life based on the people around her. 
> 
> Next time- It's the Summer Solstice, and Storybrooke will never be quite the same.


	51. Chapter 51

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we are. It's the Second Arc's finale. Just an FYI-it's long guys, like 21 pages long, which I believe is the longest chapter to date in the House Guest history.
> 
> This chapter is a (belated) present to RowofStars who is an amazing writer, graphic artist, and friend.

_June 20th, 2016_

In three hours, the sun would set.

Lacey checked her phone for what must have been the twelfth time in less than five minutes. She chewed her bottom lip anxiously as the numbers 5:26 stared back up at her.

A hand covered her own, and pushed the phone down. “Watching the clock isn’t going to help anything,” Mal told her sternly.

She was right, of course, but that didn’t calm Lacey’s shredded nerves. She just nodded absently, and went back to stroking Queenie’s mismatched fur. The cat did not purr, too busy keeping a baleful eye on the shetland pony at the glass sliding door. Dragon snorted, tossing his head for good measure. Familiars usually tolerated each other, but today Queenie was behaving as prickly as her mistress and Dragon as sour as his.

Lacey had been a mess for the past month but Mal had been behaving oddly all day. Even Regina had commented on it earlier in the afternoon, talking to the senior witch in a way even she usually didn’t dare. The seer seemed oddly on edge, and sometimes when she didn’t think Lacey was looking, she would stare at her, as if trying to read some indecipherable puzzle.

Mal stopped abruptly, swinging her head towards the hall door. After a moment, she relaxed. “The werewolf is here,” Mal said.

When Ruby walked into the apartment, she looked around, obviously skittish. Her bite was hidden by a red jacket, but Lacey knew it would be red and raw. The waxing of the solstice moon had brought nightmares and other dark thoughts. Ruby had heavy bags under her eyes. Lacey had a matching set, having barely been able to sleep over the weekend. Magic, sleep aids and even exhaustion had all failed to keep her mind quiet enough to sleep for more than a few minutes.

“Hey,” Lacey greeted and pulled her in for a hug, squeezing her tightly until Ruby relaxed into it. “It’s going to be okay,” Lacey whispered, her fingers tightening on Ruby’s shoulders. “It’s going to be fine.”

“Why wouldn’t it be?” Ruby replied, but her voice sounded hollow.

“Enough hugging,” Regina snapped, and the two parted reluctantly. “Did you take care of the zombie?”

Ruby nodded. “Heavily medicated and asleep in a morgue drawer in a locked room in the hospital basement. He ate beforehand so no need to worry about him tonight. Plus, no one knows he’s down there but us.”

“Good,” Regina said curtly. “Now, are you ready?”

Ruby glanced around the room at the coven. “Just to get it straight. You’re going to drug me and I’m going to sleep straight through the full moon?”

Regina’s lip curled in a condescending smile. “Something like that.”

“It’s an elixir, not a drug,” Mal said, shooting the other witch a look. “Your body and mind will be linked with Regina’s until the moon sets and you return to human form. She’ll keep you in a state of sleep until the solstice is over to protect you from any sway the demon may have on you through the curse.”

It had been apparent for some time Bozo had been trying to build up creatures, though the two they knew of had been able to avoid falling under the sway of the demon through sheer luck. Ruby had friends who had sheltered her and kept her from hurting herself or others, and Whale...well Victor was resourceful, which Lacey was thankful for.

“Have you done this before?” Ruby asked.

Regina shrugged. “It’s a time intensive to prepare the elixir, and a huge time suck sitting over a werewolf all night, so no, I have never personally done it. I have better things to do with my time.”

“A simple no would have sufficed,” Ruby said drily. “I’m not a child, I was just asking.”

“It’s not widely done,” Mal explained, “because it involves trust between a werewolf and a witch.”

Ruby looked instinctively towards Lacey who shook her head. “I can’t,” she said. She held out her palm to Ruby, the blank skin there startling now more than ever. “I’m a Guardian of the Veil,” she said. “I’m the only one who can send a demon back across and ensure he stays there.”

“I thought you were going to kill him?” Ruby demanded.

“We had hoped to be able to, but it’s not as easy as that,” Mal said. Dragon whinnied slightly in agreement and Ruby moved slightly away from the open window. Her love of animals had slightly decreased ever since Halloween. “Demons cannot be killed so easily.”

“Jefferson was helping us locate some items,” Lacey explained. “The knife that pierced him as a mortal man, the blood of his blood and the last remnants of his mortality.”

“In English?”

Regina waved a hand, and the suitcase beside Ruby opened with a lazy pop. A skull grinned back up at them all, and Ruby jumped backwards away from it, nearly stepping on Queenie.  
The cat hissed, and the tall brunette snarled down at her in return. “Play nice, you two,” Lacey warned, scooping up her familiar and bobbing her on the nose.

“That’s a skeleton,” Ruby said, looking back at the suitcase with trepidation. “Whose skeleton is that?”

“Bartholomew Dourif,” Regina recited, plucking the grinning skull out of the case. It was yellowed and dirt still clung to it in places. “Passed away in 1872 and luckily for us was buried by a nearby bog.”

Ruby looked to Lacey for help. “According to Jefferson, he’s the last mortal descendant of Bozo.”

Dragon started to neigh angrily, disappearing from the window entirely. All three witches spun to the door, Lacey pushing Ruby behind her. She pulled an energy ball into her palm, just as Regina summoned dark flames. Luckily, Mal had the mind to check her wards, and she held up a hand. “It’s only the neighbor,” she said in disgust. She turned towards the clock. “I thought he was in Boston?”

Sure enough, moments later, the door to the outside hallway banged open, and they heard Archie yelling something rude towards Dragon. Lacey went out into the hallway. The pony had taken a neat chunk of Archie’s pants.

“It attacked me!” he said in shock, gesturing at where the pony was still waiting just outside the door.

“Everyone’s a bit on edge,” Lacey said in apology, and gestured him down the hallway. “Couldn’t stay away?”

Archie had the grace to look guilty. “I couldn’t just stay there...knowing.”

Lacey shrugged. “Okay, fine, it’s your funeral. Join the party.”

They re-entered Mal’s apartment, just as Ruby asked, “What do we need him for?”

Archie, assuming she meant him, blinked rapidly. “I thought-”

“She means him,” Lacey said quickly, pointing out the skull on the table.

Archie paled rapidly. “Where did you get that?” he said hoarsely, looking at Lacey accusingly.

She held her hands up in front of her. “Jefferson got him somewhere in Ireland.”

“Demons can only be killed by their own kind,” Mal said, growing visibly annoyed. “Or a Guardian of the Veil can destroy them with the right ingredients.”

“Of which, we only have Yorick over here,” Regina reminded them. “We don’t even have his blood. That’s usually the easier one to acquire.”

“Didn’t you say something about a blade too?” Ruby asked, looking around. “How do you know he even has one?”

“There isn’t time for this,” Mal said curtly.

“She has a right to know,” Lacey replied. “Long story short, demons are created through a sacrifice of sorts.”

“They get their hearts cut out,” Regina added, clearly enjoying both Archie and Ruby’s growing discomfort. “Then, with the proper incantations, the victim is given the choice. Internal life as a demonic entity or death.”

“Most choose the first option,” Mal said drily. “Luckily, it’s fallen out of fashion. The Church put the fear of their God into mortals across the globe. Afterwards, most mortals chose death, ensuring demons didn’t multiply into the thousands.”

Archie shook his head faintly, as if trying to clear his head of the image. “You’re saying Christianity is the Mortal’s answer to fighting demons? Why not just kill them all and be done with it?”

Mal stared at him. “Have you heard nothing of what I just said? Demons are not easily made or destroyed. It is a unholy union between darkness and desperation. Witches have fought against them for centuries, and have lost more than we can ever truly count. The Church’s actions, while simple, were effective which is why the three sides joined together to form the Unspoken Laws.”

“Rules governing the three separate groups,” Lacey reminded Ruby and Archie under her breath.

“A mutual agreement that while restrictive, has ensured the mystic community has not entirely withered and died away,” Mal finished, a twinge of red in her cheeks. It was unusual for her to lose her cool, but the elder witch seemed as on edge as any of them. “The demon called forth on Sanheim is known for his distaste for these treaties, and tonight, he know he has plans to begin to break down the laws that have governed our people for centuries. He must be destroyed.”

“DoDo’s a demon,” Ruby said quietly. “Are we supposed to destroy him too?”

“No,” Lacey said firmly. “DoDo is DoDo. He’s an self interested narcissist, but he’s not a threat.” The others in the room looked at each other, but Lacey ignored them. “As for the blade that created Bozo, we don’t have it either,” Lacey continued. “Jefferson’s been searching for it for months now with no luck. DoDo assumes it’s safely hidden away somewhere.”

“Enough of this, you three need to get going,” Mal said curtly. They had all agreed the sooner Ruby was asleep, the safer she would be. “If the good doctor here doesn’t mind, we’ll still use the wolf proof room in his residence.”

Archie nodded, and reached over to take Ruby’s hand. She startled slightly at the touch, but with a quick almost shy look over to him relinquished it.

“Ugh,” Regina growled. “This is going to be sicking.”

Dragon whinnied again, and from over the fence, they could hear Pongo barking. The five of them in tandem moved to exit outside, only to find Gold standing in the hallway waiting for them. His face was troubled.

“What?” Lacey demanded, moving towards him. “What’s wrong?”

Just then, Regina’s phone began to vibrate in her pocket. She pulled it free, pushing past where DoDo stood. “This is Mayor Mills.”

Gold watched her go, before turning back to the four of them. “A local woman on a walk found a patrol car out by the toll bridge,” he said quietly. “Lights on.”

Lacey shook her head. “Okay?”

“There was a body nearby,” Gold continued. “From what I’ve heard, it’s...rather gruesome.”

“Call David,” Archie advised wisely, still holding Ruby’s hand in his. “He’ll know what to do.”

“I have not been to our shared residence lately,” Gold confessed. “I went there when I heard but...it does not appear anyone has been there recently.”

Hadn’t Mary Margaret said she had not heard from David lately either? Lacey paled just as Regina pushed the hallway door back open. The evening sun streamed in around her, illuminating the look upon her face.

“The elixir is going to have to wait,” Regina said. “There’s been a murder at the toll bridge.”

\--

Despite their protests, Lacey did not let Archie or Ruby join them. Mal stayed behind as well, she would be the one to give Ruby the elixir in case Regina did not return in time.

She had also pressed a fragment of the skeleton into Lacey’s palm before she had left. There was something in the way the elder witch looked at her in that last moment that made her feel uneasy. The future was always in flux, Mal had taught her that, but though they rarely spoke about it, they both remembered their first meeting in Salem.

_“The price to be paid will be taken at the toll bridge…”_

It was nearly seven by the time Gold, Lacey and Regina arrived. There was a crowd of spectators, and a few city officials were struggling to keep them back. Regina left them to slip under the meager barricades, and was soon barely visible through branches.

“Lacey!” Mary Margaret hurtled towards them. She had forgone her jacket, and people hurriedly moved out of the way for the pregnant woman. Lacey just barely managed to catch her friend, who had tears running down her cheeks. “They said it was a law officer,” Mary Margaret wheezed, eyes searching the treeline behind Lacey. “They said-”

Mary Margaret’s tears did not stop. Lacey slowly rubbed soothing circles in her friend’s back, barely conscious that Gold was doing the same for her. She let herself lean back against him, despite the unusual humid summer night. The sun had begun to set, and it suddenly grew completely obvious to her that she had always been meant to come here, to this spot on this night. Around them, the crowd was dwindling, but a few curious souls were still there.

“Strung up like some kind of sacrifice,” someone nearby whispered.

“I heard his chest was ripped open,” another added.

“Who would do such a thing to a law man?”

Mary Margaret made a keening noise in the back of her throat, and her knees gave out from underneath her. Lacey wouldn’t have been able to hold her if not for magical assistance. The school teacher simply repeated David’s name over and over, unable to tear her eyes away from the curve in the road that hid the toll bridge.

Regina had yet to return, but Lacey was growing impatient. “Can you see anything?” she whispered up to Gold, and he shook his head. Mary Margaret was barely holding it together, and Lacey’s nerves were frayed to the point of snapping. “Oh, screw this,” Lacey growled, and ignoring everyone, she started to elbow her way through the crowd, half carrying Mary Margaret. Gold followed behind them, until they reached the barricade where he slipped past them to hold the tape up for them.

“This area is off limits,” a man in a suit yelled, hurrying towards them. “I’ll have to ask you to return to the other side of the barricade.”

“Do you know who this is?” Gold asked scathingly, indicating Mary Margaret.

“Oh, Ms. Blanchard,” the man said, blinking as he got a good look at Mary Margaret for the first time. “I didn’t realize it was you, go on ahead.”

“What was that about?” Lacey whispered to them both, as they headed towards the sound of voices just beyond the trees.

“I’m the deputy sheriff’s girlfriend and the Mayor’s stepdaughter,” Mary Margaret said quietly. “I’m guessing he thinks I have a right to...to be here.”

As they turned the corner towards the abandoned toll bridge, Lacey stopped short in horror at the scene before them.

Over the road, a man had been strung up between two pines, nearly twenty feet up in the air. They could not see his face, but his chest was a bloody hole. His once grey uniform was black with blood and a lake of it lay beneath him, still dripping down his legs. Nearby, a squad car had been burned out, and symbols painted in blood all around it.

This time Mary Margaret did fall to her knees, Lacey too busy trying to keep her lunch down to hold her up.

“Mary Margaret!”

Lacey spun around to find David tearing towards them. He did not stop, but fell to his knees to envelop his lover. He pressed frantic kisses to her upturned face, while Mary Margaret peered in astonished relief back up at him.

“But- But-”

“It’s Graham,” David told her quietly.

Nearby, Regina stood, arms crossed. She was looking pointedly away from the body as if pained. Lacey had always suspected the Mayor of having somewhat of a crush on the kind hearted handsome sheriff, but by the look on her face, it might have been more than just a simple infatuation.

“You’re okay,” Mary Margaret was finally able to say as David helped her off the ground. “I thought-”

He shook his head and gathered her back in his arms, pressing feverish kisses to her face. “I got called in Thursday morning when Graham didn’t report into the local office. I’ve been out here in the woods the past couple days looking for him. I slept in my car, showed at the ranger’s stations...I’m sorry I didn’t have service and the days kind of got away from me…”

“You idiot,” Mary Margaret said, though her tone lacked any anger. “I thought you were breaking up with me!”

David looked taken aback. “Sweetheart, no!” he insisted, hand going to her stomach. “I just thought you could use some space...you know...with the baby.”

“You knew?” Mary Margaret exclaimed and David shrugged guiltily.

“Well, your body kind of...changed in some rather pleasant ways,” he admitted. “When I noticed your cycle had stopped, I just put two and two together.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?” she said, swatting him. “I’ve been going nuts trying to figure out how to tell you!”

“Is now really the time?” Gold said and both turned as one to stare up at where Graham hung.

“You’re right,” David said softly, and Mary Margaret nodded, looking a bit green. “I just didn’t expect to see you all here.”

“Why, little Snow White,” Regina drawled, marching towards them. “Of course you’d be here, never could get your nose out of other people’s business.”

“Regina,” Mary Margaret sighed, looking as if she wanted to be anywhere but there. “I’ve repeatedly asked you not to call me that.”

“Snow White?” David asked, looking at Regina.

“A childhood nickname her father gave her. ‘Pure as the driven snow’, he used to say,” the Mayor said, her eyes on Mary Margaret's stomach. “I see that’s not the case anymore.”

Mary Margaret's face flushed as she scowled up at Regina. “You have no right to talk to me like that!” she said fiercely. “I’m not some little girl anymore!”

“No,” Regina shot back. “You’re not, so stop acting like one and go home!”

“Madam Mayor!” David said in shock. “You have no right to speak that way Ms. Blanchard!”

“Oh, that’s right,” Regina said nastily. “He doesn’t know.” She turned to David with a cat eating the canary grin. “I’m Mary Margaret's stepmother,” she said icily. “Her legal guardian, so I can say whatever I damn well please.”

David looked at Regina and then towards the woman in his arms, doing some quick mental math. “But you’re so…”

“Evil? Coldhearted?” Gold supplied helpfully, earning a filthy look from Regina.

“There is a body hanging over us,” Lacey growled, feeling magic tingling her fingertips. “A man that we all knew and respected, so for once in your lives, will you two just knock it off?”

Everyone froze, even Regina who looked at her in surprise. “My, my,” she said, crossing her arms lazily. “The little witch has teeth.”

“Hey, no need for that kind of language,” David said, stepping towards Regina. “I know this is a difficult time-”

“You have no idea how difficult,” Regina snapped at him. In the distance, the closed toll bridge grew darker as the shadows of the tree tops loomed over it.

“What time is it?” Lacey asked, grabbing for her phone.

“Quarter to eight,” David said, glancing down at his watch. “Why?”

“You have to go,” Lacey said, looking around the small clearing. “Regina, all these people have to go. It’s nearly time!”

“Time for what?” David asked, looking confused.

Mary Margaret tried to help out. “David, it is getting dark. Maybe we should listen to Lacey.”

He started back at her in confusion. “And just leave Graham up there?”

“Regina,” Lacey said. “We need to get these people out of here.”

The other witch nodded, and moved towards the closest official. She said a few words and the man shook his head. Luckily, a witch is not to be denied, Regina bent down but she said something else and the man hurried away as if he had been burned.

“Effective if not sophisticated,” Gold said blandly.

“Well, Regina did always have a way with people,” Mary Margaret added under her breath.

“She’s really your stepmother?” David asked, looking towards Regina. “You never mentioned that.”

“I...uh…” Mary Margaret floundered, looking towards Lacey for help.

“David,” Lacey interrupted. “Do you remember a few months ago you asked me what was exactly was going on around town?”

David nodded slowly, resisting the urge to look up at where his friend hung above them. He looked over to Gold who raised a brow at his house guest in return. “Is this something to do with,” he gestured towards Gold, “him?”

“In a way,” Laey admitted. “He’s a demon, I’m a witch, and another demon is on the loose. Tonight is the summer solstice and if we can’t stop him, Storybrooke and then the entire world is in danger.”

David blinked.

“Uh, Lacey?” Mary Margaret said softly. “That might have been...a little too much information.”

“Wait. You knew? About all this?” he asked, turning sharply towards her.

Mary Margaret nodded miserably, hands going to her stomach. “Regina’s a witch too,” she explained helplessly. “They don’t age as fast as mortals do...which is why we look the same age.”

David shook his head. “So, you hid the fact that you were pregnant, and the fact that you knew about all this...other stuff? What else don’t I know?”

Lacey moved to step in, but Gold put a hand on her shoulder to stop her.

Mary Margaret seemed close to tears, but a sudden anger illuminated her now slightly rounded cheeks. “I didn’t tell you I was pregnant because I didn’t want you to feel trapped or to marry me out of some dutiful obligation.”

David tried to speak but Mary Margaret plowed onwards. “I didn’t tell you about magic because it’s dangerous for mortals to know,” she said fiercely. “I’ve lived my entire life in fear the Church will come drag me away for knowing about witches and demons so I’ve spent a lifetime pretending it doesn’t exist.’

‘Then these two,” she said, gesturing towards Lacey and Gold, “go running around town doing everything you could possibly do to get noticed and somehow manage to avoid persecution.”

“Reul is preoccupied with the more dangerous demon at the moment,” Gold explained with a shrug. “Gave us a bit of carte blanche.”

“Who the hell is Reul?” David demanded, looking between Mary Margaret and Gold.

“She’s a nun,” Lacey said, pinching the bridge of her nose. “She’s not important right now. What is, David, is it’s all true,” she said. “Every word of it and if you had known...it would have put you in risk. Look at what happened to Ruby.”

“Ruby?” David asked in bewilderment. “What does Ruby Lucas have to do with this?”

“She’s a werewolf now,” Gold said, looking at his watch. “One that in forty minutes will be free to run around unchecked unless Regina gets back to her.”

As if summoned, Regina appeared back at the edge of their circle. The few remaining people were shuffling away, all throwing suspicious looks over their shoulders as they went. “Here,” she said, handing David a bundle of papers. “These are the official documents saying I’m preventing local crime enforcement from the scene of the crime. Now, if you’ll excuse me.”

She turned and upon verifying no one was left in the clearing, raised two hands overhead. The setting sun was right behind Graham’s body, casting his deathly shadow over them all.

“What’s she doing?” David asked, stepping forward as if to stop her. Mary Margaret raised an arm silently, shaking her head.

A wind rose, soft and first and then slightly stronger until their hair whipped back from their faces. Gold’s shaggy hair blew straight back, though Lacey had to claw her curls out of her face. Mary Margaret and David stood just in front of them, but Lacey still had a clear view of Regina. The elder witch’s face was hidden, her black hair flowing gently around her as if the wind was emanating from her.

Graham’s body shifted, and slowly the pines bent until the massive boughs deposited the corpse neatly upon the ground. David stepped around Mary Margaret’s arm and hurried forward to unbind the ropes from the tree tops. When finished, he stepped back and nodded towards Regina. As suddenly as the wind had started, it died, and the great pines sprang back into place with a groan that echoed through the trees.

“Thank you,” Regina said, dusting her hands off. “Now, Sheriff, if you can handle the body from here?”

Graham’s face was twisted, a hole in his chest where his heart had once beat was ragged as if someone had clawed it out. He looked haggard and dirty, and Lacey had a sinking suspicion if they removed his uniform, his body would bear signs of torture.

“It’s ritualistic sacrifice,” Gold said, kneeling down beside the dead man. “He….he was attempting to beget a new demon.”

The Unspoken Laws directly forbade any new demons from being created. The Mystics and Mortals had agreed upon it, and the Demons had eventually as well, when it had been pointed out that more demons could mean civil wars and bloodshed in their own realms.

“Would he have been like you?” David asked. “Or like the thing that killed him?”

Gold looked up at his house guest before nodding. “It depends on the man, I suppose,” Gold said. “You’ve known about me for quite a while now, haven’t you?”

David nodded. “Since the first night we met,” he confessed. “Saw you two walking back from the store in what I assume is your true form?”

Gold grinned. “It was brave of you to move in with a demon.”

“It was nice of you to have me,” David answered though he did not smile. He looked over towards Lacey. “What’s the plan then?”

“We have it under control,” Lacey said firmly. “You take Mary Margaret and your unborn child home and the two of you talk. If we somehow manage to save the world, you two better live happily ever after or I’ll be pissed.”

Mary Margaret cracked a watery smile, but David did not move. “What am I supposed to do with...him?”

Gold waved his hand and the body disappeared. David made a choking noise, less surprised than outraged. “He’s in the city morgue’s freezer,” Gold said, standing up and dusting his knees off. “He’ll keep till Monday or the end of the world, whichever comes first.”

Satisfied, David led Mary Margaret away. Despite the slight frostiness between them, David was careful to make sure Mary Margaret was safely buckled in before he even turned the car on. Lacey watched them leave, a weird dry spot in her throat.

“They’ll be fine,” Gold said beside her.

“Yea,” Lacey said faintly. “I know.”

“What now?” Regina asked, rejoining them. The sun had disappeared by now, and the moon peeked over the treetops. “Should we go back to get Mal?”

Lacey shook her head. “She’d have issued the elixir by now. Plus, it’s going to be here,” she said, gesturing to the toll bridge.

“How do you know that?”

“Mal told me once,” Lacey said softly. “It’s why she didn’t come with us. She knows what could happen.”

“Very clever of her.”

Lacey spun around to find they were not alone.

“Brad?” Lacey said in disbelief. He stood nearby, leaning against a pine tree as if he had been there from the start. He was dressed in khakis and a button up despite the warm June weather. “What are you doing here?”

“You canceled our last date,” Brad said, cocking his head to smile at her. “Figured I’d surprise you.”

“Who is this?” Regina demanded, looking to Lacey in disgust. “You set up a date for tonight?”

“No!” Lacey exclaimed, shaking her head. “Brad, this is not a good time. You need to leave.”

“Oh, no,” he said, pushing off the tree. He began to stroll towards them, and it was only then that Lacey realized Gold was no longer there. The Dark One stood beside her in all his glory, glowering at the man before them. “I think I’m right where I should be.”

“Zozo,” DoDo growled. “I should have known it was you.”

“Thought you did honestly,” the man shrugged, stopping short of their trio. “No matter, games up now, I suppose.” He clicked his fingers, and a column of smoke surrounded him. Lacey knew what she would see before it cleared, and was not disappointed.

Where DoDo was golden, Zozo was a murky yellow. HIs eyes were red and his teeth were blacked, ragged remnants. His talons were thick and stubby, tipped with dried blood.

“Lacey,” he said, smiling nastily at her. “I was so hoping to take you out last Tuesday. Have a nice meal, learn a little about what makes you tick, rip you limb from limb… Just really savor the shock in your eyes as you slowly bled to death at my feet. You sought release, and you would have found it indeed.”

Lacey thought back to Graham’s remains and had to close her eyes against the wave of nausea.

“What I might have done with you…” he continued, peering at her. “Tell me, when I held your heart in my hand, and gave you the choice between life and death, what would you have said?”

“Fuck you,” Lacey spat at him.

He laughed. “Such a wild thing,” Zozo continued, “though her power is undeniable. Imagine if she had joined us, Rumplestiltskin.”

“Rumplestiltskin?” Lacey said, raising a brow. “Your name is Rumpelstiltskin? And you thought DoDo sounded stupid?”

“Not the time or place for this,” he growled under his breath. “Focus, please.”

“Yes, Rumplestiltskin and I go way back,” ZoZo continued. “He was a meek little man, and when death came for him one evening, he begged and wailed like the coward he is.” DoDo’s jaw clenched, but he did not deny it. “When he emerged unscathed from death, he was more powerful than he had ever been.”

“Your experiment went well,” DoDo agreed, a ghost of a smile on his face. “Too well. You’ve been afraid of me ever since.”

Zozo cackled. “I have nothing to fear from you,” he sneered. “I’ve heard you found my mortality’s last shreds, but not the blade that pierced my heart nor the blood of my blood.”

“We have more than you think,” Lacey lied, taking a step closer to him.

“Oh?” Zozo said, eyes narrowing. “Well, so do I.”

He clicked his fingers, and on the roof of the burnt car, appeared a familiar shape, a top hat, crushed and battered. “Your little halfbreed friend was snooping around my dominion,” he hissed in enjoyment. “He’s currently a guest of mine in the other realm.”

DoDo did not seem fazed. “He’s only still there because he wants to be,” he shrugged. “A hopper is not held by anything as simple as a cage.”

“Too true, but madness and misery, ah,” Zozo gnashed his jagged teeth at them. “That’ll hold anyone.”

Lacey could not focus on Jefferson right now. She had to trust DoDo knew him well enough, to trust that he was going to be okay. Right now, she had to focus on them. Zozo was enjoying this entire thing too much.

“You need to leave,” Lacey ordered him firmly. “Leave Storybrooke, return to the other realm, and stay there.”

“Or what?” Zozo laughed. “You’ll kill me?”

“I’m giving you a chance,” Lacey breathed. “A demon can kill a demon. A Guardian can kill a demon. Last time I checked, we had both of those.”

Zozo snorted. “If by some miracle you manage to draw blood, you’ll still need the blade that cut my still beating heart from my chest.”

“Do I?”

Forgoing all her training, Lacey began the chant. It was a stream of words and syllables, a rhythm that she did not know how to speak but her centers flared to life one by one, providing her the words. Even though she did not understand them, she knew them. Her hands glowed bright white at her side, and her lips burned as the magic poured forth from her tongue.

Zozo lifted a finger, and a darkness shot forth. Beside her, Regina tried to parry it, but only managed to draw it to herself, the sound of her falling a heavy ringing in Lacey’s ears. She continued the chant, unable to stop though her mind screamed at her to turn to make sure Regina was okay.

The moon had risen high over the trees, though Lacey did not remember when that had happened. There was a pool of light around her, DoDo too far away to hear much less reach out and touch now.

Another inky black spell came towards her, but DoDo met it. He deflected it easily, standing between her and the other demon.

“She is the downfall!” Zozo laughed. “Her power awakened me from the dark pits of my realm, called me here, told me the world was ready for the taking. She is the harbinger of my glory.”

“She is a Guardian of the Veil,” DoDo called back, his voice whipping in the wind.

When had the wind started? Her body thrummed, her blood sang and still words poured from her mouth unbidden.

“Think Zozo! What do you hope to gain by this? Outright war?”

“Yes! And I shall have it!” Zozo vowed, and he threw another black bolt.

While DoDo deflected the bolts that had taken down Regina, a black shadow crept across the ground between Lacey and him. It reared up from the ground and wrapped it’s arms around the other demon. In one movement, it had pulled him into the ground.

Lacey wanted to scream, to raise her hands and call DoDo back from where he had fallen, but her own magic had her in its grip. All she could do was continue to speak the words. She did not know how she knew them, but they continued to pour forth from her like a waterfall. Light streamed forth from her, white and bright, sparks of it floating in the air around her. It would have been beautiful if death was not stalking towards her.

“Just us now, Lacey, my pet.”

Lacey wanted to scream, but the magic continued to use her as it’s vessel. She was nothing more than pure magic at this point, and nothing short of a miracle could save her now.

A low growl echoed behind her, and Zozo’s eyes widened in pleasant surprise. “Oh...the werewolf is here. I must say, I was rather disappointed when I didn’t hear about a rash of werewolves running through Storybrooke. A fact that I hope is soon remedied…”

A hulking creature padded out from behind Lacey, and though she could not move her head to look closer, she saw the black fur tinted with auburn, the brilliant green eyes luminescent in the glow of Lacey’s magic. The werewolf snarled, pacing between Lacey and ZoZo.

He scowled. “Ah,” he murmured. “Interesting. A tame werewolf.” He looked up to Lacey, and she dimly realized she was floating now, the magic hoisting her up in the air as if calling her upwards. “You’ve made a pet of her,” he said nastily. “How disgusting.”

The wolf snapped its teeth, tossing its head in challenge. The demon bared his own teeth, and lifted his hand to attack. Ruby did not let him have the chance. Bounding towards him, she clamped her jaws on his arm, and held on for dear life.

“Lacey!”

The voice was not DoDo’s, nor Regina’s but Mal, who swung in front of her, grabbing her outstretched hands in her own. “You stupid girl,” Mal scolded her, but she did not attempt to drag her back down to earth. “The spell cannot be completed without all the ingredients. The magic will burn through you without the right conduit!”

“Why, Maleficent,” Zozo greeted coolly, though his breath was coming raggedly. “I had not thought to see you here.”

Mal turned to face him, leaving Lacey hanging in the air. The bone fragment...the last shreds of humanity burned white hot against her skin. Lacey refocused her eyes to see where Ruby had gone. Finally, she found her in the shadows, crouched to the left, tail lowered, mouth bloody, and eyes closed in pain.

Mouth bloody…

Lacey was repeating the same words now, back to the start of the incantation, but the magic was blazing hotter. She felt weak and dizzy, drained and empty. She willed Mal to see what she saw, but the elder witch only had eyes for the demon before them.

“I never got to tell you,” Zozo was saying conversationally. “Your daughter died well for a witch.”

Mal’s fingers curled into fists.

“Yes, she barely knew her own strength,” he continued. “I would have kept her for my own amusement, but,” he shrugged, “she wasn’t strong enough to play the game.”

He was trying to provoke her, distract her from his injury. Thankfully, Mal saw it too. “Ruby!” she yelled to the werewolf, not taking her eyes off the thing that had killed her daughter. “The blood!”

Zozo hissed, and throwing back his cloak to reveal the mangled arm beneath, began to throw more of his dark bolts. Ruby bounded towards Lacey, expertly dodging the dark bolts that Zozo sent towards her.

Another shadow reared up to capture the werewolf, but Mal waved her hand, and it blasted away. Zozo repeated his gesture, and Mal blew another into dust. The elder witch stepped forward, as the werewolf reached the relative safety of the witches.

Putting her paws up to Lacey’s hips, the wolf stood upright, and smeared the blood across Lacey’s stomach. Her navel center exploded in sensation, and new words began to issue from her lips, faster and more defiant.

“Fools!” Zozo exclaimed. “Without the blade, she’ll die just like your daughter did,” he told Maleficent.

“My daughter was not a Guardian of the Veil.” Mal raised her hands, and a stream of fire blasted from her palms, catching Zozo by surprise. He barely deflected it.

“My daughter did not have the last of your mortality in her hand or the blood of your blood smeared upon her skin.” Mal walked towards him, leaning into the magic, pushing it against him as if she could burn him off the face of the Earth.

“My daughter did not have me.”

A great shape arose in the flames, a winged beast that rose forth before bending as if to swallow Zozo whole. The demon cried out, and in the next moment, disappeared into the swirling flames.

As if the switch had been flipped, Lacey fell back to the Earth in a heap. The light faded from around her, and pain flooded in. All her centers were raw, burned and tingling with sensation. She was in so much pain she barely heard the low growl.

She cracked an eye open to find the werewolf beside her, but the green eyes of her friend were gone. The werewolf’s eyes were narrowed and red, muzzle foaming as it snarled at her. The elixir had stopped working. Lacey sucked in a shaky breath, knowing she was too weak to fight off a werewolf.

As if sensing her weakness, the creature threw its head back and howled. Using the opportunity, Lacey wiggled a finger, and in the distance, the howl was repeated. The werewolf twisted, and through some grace, Lacey managed to wiggle her finger once more, though her centers all flared in gruesome agony at the simplest of echo enchantments.

She closed her eyes, and played dead, and sure enough the werewolf lost interest. She heard her running towards the forest, and only when silence fell over the clearing did she dare open her eyes. Regina lay a few feet behind her, her chest rising and falling though her eyes were closed.

Five feet ahead of her, the entire road was scorched black. The trees where Graham had hung where tindersticks, the smell of burnt earth overpowering. There was no sign of Zozo or DoDo.  
At the last edge of the green, lay Maleficent. She was not moving.

“Mal,” Lacey breathed, but the other witch did not stir. “Mal!” She half crawled, half scooted to the blonde. When she finally got there, she was out of breath, and so dizzy, she almost collapsed on top of her.

Mal cracked a blue eye open. It was blood shot. “Lily?”

“It’s me, Lacey,” she said, reaching down to check the witch for injuries. “What the hell was that?”

“A dragon,” Mal chuckled, but it quickly died away as she winced.

“There’s no such thing as dragons,” Lacey said, shaking her head.

“Not anymore,” Mal agreed faintly. “But I called upon its spirit and it listened.”

“Is he...dead?”

Mal shook her head, letting her eyes close. “No...he’s weakened. He’ll be back but we earned ourselves some time.”

“Got the blood and the bones,” Lacey said, smiling down at the seer. “One dagger to go.” Mal did not reply. “Hey,” Lacey said, shaking her gently. “Mal, come on, get up.”

“Do you remember the first time we met?”

“At Salem?” Lacey asked. “Yea, why?”

“I saw death when I looked in your future,” Mal told her, blue eyes widening to look up at the night sky. “I saw you broken at the feet of a demon...and I thought it was Rumplestiltskin so I warned you away from him.”

Lacey clutched the witch harder, and felt the sluggish beat of her heart struggling to go on. “What else did you see?” she sniffed. After all, Mal had taught her there was always more than one future.

“Good girl,” Mal praised, and the corner of her lip twitched. “I saw my own death in flames. I knew if I came here...it meant I chose death.”

“Then, why did you?” Lacey demanded, as a tear dropped onto Mal’s upturned face. “You idiot, we had it under control!”

Mal laughed at this. “If he had not killed you, the magic would have burned through you. I told you-”

“Not to speak the incantation without the ingredients,” Lacey finished, nodding even as another tear dropped. “Mal, I had to do something.”

“As did I.” Mal clutched her hand, the strength in her grip surprising for a dying woman. “I failed my daughter. I failed Lily. I couldn’t fail you too.”

“Mal…”

“I’m going to be with my daughter now,” she said, looking back up at the full moon overhead of them. “I was not brave enough to meet her before, but now... I can greet her knowing I avenged her in some small way.”

Lacey swallowed, but did not speak. A moment later, Mal’s hand relaxed, and her smile softened. The seer passed quietly, her magic a whisper against Lacey’s skin as it left her body and moved into the world beyond.

Lacey did not know how long she sat there, cradling Mal’s body. The moon was still overhead, when she heard the crunch of boots behind her. Her powers were nonexistent, but she recognized the presence without turning around.

“She’s gone,” she told DoDo softly.

He knelt down beside her, gently removing the other witch’s body from her grasp.

Lacey felt hollow. Her limbs were frozen into position, far past cramping. DoDo moved her gently, but she resisted him, until he pulled her into his arms. There, she went willingly, curling up in his lap and releasing great sobs as the dams broke.

She cried for Graham. She cried for Maleficent. She cried for Ruby and Victor, Mary Margaret and David, and for herself. She cried until she felt empty and even then, DoDo held her without saying a word.

“I’m fine, thanks for asking,” came a dry voice and when Lacey looked up, she found Regina standing over them. She was looking at Mal with no emotion. “How?”

“She harnessed greater magic than her body could handle,” Jefferson said, stepping into Lacey’s sight. “Which would have happened to Lacey here if Maleficent had not bested Zozo.”

“You’re both okay?” Lacey managed, but did not move from DoDo’s embrace.

Jefferson swept into a bow. “Rumplestiltskin here was pulled into the other realm by Zozo’s minions. Luckily for him, I was still around to bring him back.”

“Yes, thank you, Jefferson,” DoDo said drily. “Now, can you please go get my son?”

“Be back in a jiffy!” he disappeared with a pop, and Lacey jerked involuntarily.

“Shush, it’s okay,” DoDo whispered, pressing her closer. His breath tickled the hairs around her ear. “Everything’s going to be okay.”

“Regina, will you….check on Mary Margaret and David?” Lacey requested quietly. “Make sure they’re okay?”

Regina sighed. ‘They’re probably at it like rabbits but fine. I’ll check on them.” She raised a hand, and she too disappeared from the clearing in a cloud of smoke.

They sat there in silence for a moment, waiting on Jefferson to return with Neal. DoDo waved a hand, and when Lacey twisted to see what he had done, Mal was gone. “She’s with Graham in the morgue,” he explained softly. “You can bury her.” Lacey nodded absently, fisting his jacket in her hands. “Are you okay?” he asked again.

She shook her head. “I thought I lost you,” Lacey said, wrapping her arms tighter around him.

“Me?” DoDo chuckled, leaning away slightly. “You were the fool who began the incantation. As long as a demon stood before you, the magic would have built until it could have been unleashed. If Mal had not forced him to retreat, he would have watched you destroy yourself.”

“I killed her,” Lacey mumbled into his shirt. “I killed her, DoDo.”

“No,” he said, pushing her away slightly so he could look directly in her eyes. His fingers curled around her upper arms, and he shook her slightly as to make her focus. “She knew what it meant coming here. She chose her own path. Do not belittle her sacrifice with guilt and what if’s.”

Lacey did not speak, just stared up at him with tears dry on her cheeks. He sighed, closing his eyes. “I thought I was going to lose you,” he told her.

She leaned forward, and pressed her lips against his. He let out the breath he had been holding, his hands released her to better frame her face, and before Lacey knew it, she was kissing him. It was much like kissing Gold, she thought hazily, except the pleasant scratch of talons against her temple. His lips were soft, and his kiss was gentle, as if he was afraid to hurt her. Usually that would annoy her, but here, now, it was perfect.

The kiss was slightly salty from her tears, but her body hummed pleasantly, her centers cooling as if doused with water. She deepened the kiss, pulling him closer to her and exhaling happily as he leaned in to the kiss, hands falling to grip her waist.

“Ahem.”

They broke apart reluctantly. DoDo blinked a few times, as if trying to get his bearing as Lacey looked up to find Jefferson had returned. He was grinning down at the two of them, hands pressed together like he was about to clap.

Neal, on the other hand…

“What are you two doing?” he demanded, eyes wide.

“Kissing,” Lacey said, draping an arm around DoDo’s neck as she smiled up at his son. “What does it look like?”

Neal blinked. “You dragged me out of the penthouse on the Summer Solstice for this?”

DoDo cleared his throat, but did not move from underneath her. “I thought it best for you to be close by, in case, Zozo attempts to strike back for his defeat here tonight.”

Neal sighed but nodded. “Fine, but I’ll stay at Granny’s Inn tonight.”

Lacey looked to DoDo, who met her gaze with a suggestive smile of his own. “I think that’s best,” she said, and then leaned in for another kiss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The prompt for this chapter was David learns Mary Margaret knows about magic. 
> 
> Thanks to every single one of you readers. If you have enjoyed the ride up to here, please leave a comment on this chapter letting me know even it is just <3 or ! or :D. This story is a rare breed which is based wholly on what you the readers want to see, and knowing you guys are enjoying it means everything to me.
> 
> Next season, the battle against Zozo/Bozo continues with the notable difference of Lacey and DoDo- ahem sorry- Rumple are together. Ruel steps more into the picture with Mal's demise, while Mary Margaret and David take the next steps. Meanwhile, Ruby and Victor deal with what it means to be a monster, while Archie, Ariel, Eric, and Leroy live in a town which is quickly getting weirder by the minute. 
> 
> See you guys soon!


	52. Chapter 52

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Trivia Team (Leroy, Ruby, David and MM) are very encouraging of DoDo x Lacey.

November 22, 2016

Lacey stepped back and held up her hands. “No, absolutely not. Get that thing away from me this instant”

Rumple growled something under his breath, but he relented. “You’ll have to hold her sooner or later,” he whispered to her as Mary Margaret hurried back into the room with the bottle.

“Thank you, Gold,” the new mother said, taking her infant daughter out of his hands. “You’re so good with her.”

“I’m rather fond of children,” he replied, causing Lacey and Mary Margaret’s eyebrows to shoot upwards. “I have a son,” he reminded them both as David laughed behind him.

“Leave the poor man alone,” he told his wife, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “Lacey, can I get you something else to drink?”

The wine glass in her hand filled on its own, and she gave him a smug grin. “Perks of being a witch,” she said, toasting before taking a long drink. Anything to keep her hands full.

Emma Blanchard Nolan had been born a month ago to the newly wed David and Mary Margaret Nolan. With a sprinkling of blonde fuzz on her head and green eyes, she had been dubbed the prettiest baby in all of Storybrooke.

Lacey had taken everyone’s words for it. Until Rumple had dragged her back to his old Victorian to meet her, reminding her she was Emma’s godmother.

“I’m really glad to see you,” Mary Margaret said as David took his daughter and the bottle. “Ariel came by last week but they went to Eric’s family for the holidays so they couldn’t come tonight.”

“Yea, she mentioned that,” Lacey said as they left the nursery to return to the kitchen.

Mary Margaret wasted no time refilling her own wine glass, sitting down at the island counter with a sigh. “So, you and Gold. Spill.”

Lacey had expected this. After June, Mary Margaret and David had eloped, returning back to Storybrooke in early October, nine months pregnant and happier than any two people had a right to be. They had kept in touch via email and text, but mostly just the usual hellos, how are you's and travel photos. 

“What’s there to tell?” Lacey asked, sitting down across from her friend. “I’m dating a demon.”

“You do realize that sounds insane, right? I mean, even to people who know there are demons, and witches and werewolves and ghosts. It’s against the laws.”

It was not only against the laws, it was very likely going to get them killed. 

“Like either of us gives a shit,” Lacey said. “We live together. It’s not like we’re doing anything we didn’t do before.”

Mary Margaret's eyes widened. “Oh. So, you two were…you know...before?”

Shit.

“Uh, actually,” Lacey hedged, buying time by draining her glass. 

“Wait. You’re not?”

Lacey sighed. “No…,” she admitted. “Just after Mal...and then it was just weird…”

The front door opened and closed rapidly.

“In here!” Mary Margaret called out, looking to the stairs to make sure she hadn’t disturbed Emma. 

Ruby came around the corner of the living room, shedding her trademark cherry red pea coat. The fur lined hood was speckled with snow and her cheeks were as red as her jacket. “There she is!” Ruby greeted, bending down to press a kiss to Mary Margaret’s cheek. “Sorry, I couldn’t make it sooner but the supermoon was a bitch.”

“Hey Rubes,” Lacey said, handing her a glass of Malbec without prompting. 

“I didn’t expect to see you here,” Ruby teased, leaning against a counter. “You know there’s a baby upstairs right?”

“She’s cute,” Lacey said defensively but the two other women exchanged looks of mutual amusement. 

“Gold actually held her,” Mary Margaret told the other woman confidentially. “He’s a natural.”

“Well, he does have a son,” Ruby said with a twitch of her shoulder. “Besides, you can kind of tell he’s got a paternal streak. A real ‘Daddy’.”

“Whenever you’re done,” Lacey growled good-naturedly. 

“Oh! Archie sends his love, and Victor sent this,” Ruby said, pulling a bottle of whiskey out of her tote. “ Something about a late wedding present.”

“That man,” Mary Margaret grumbled, but her cheeks dotted with color. Lacey and Ruby exchanged a look as hostess placed it in the fridge. 

“Might want to say that’s from Archie instead,” Lacey advised. “David’s still not a huge fan of Victor.”

“It was one date,” Mary Margaret said with a wave of her hand. “Besides, he was married.”

“Where’s the little lady?” Ruby asked, steering away from the awkward conversation. 

“David’s putting her down for the night,” Mary Margaret said with a glance at the oven. “Dinner should be ready shortly. Is Neal coming?”

Lacey shook her head. “He’s staying in the city with Cruella and Jefferson,” she told her. “Still thinks the whole me dating his dad thing is weird.”

Weird was an understatement. Neal had barely been able to look at her since the Summer Solstice without wincing ever so slightly. Both she and Rumple found it amusing, but had agreed to give Neal some time to come to terms with the situation. Besides, it wasn’t like they had everything figured out yet.

“Well, that’s everyone then,” Mary Margaret said with a sigh. “Leroy’s volunteering at the convent again. He said he’d try to stop by but I doubt it.”

“You mean, he’s spending time with that nun of his,” Ruby replied. “God, he’s so going to hell.”

“Well, I’ll see him there,” Lacey said and the three of them began to giggle.

“I need to catch up,” Ruby said, reaching for the wine bottle. “What were you guys talking about before I got here?”

Mary Margaret eyed Lacey. “Lacey here, was just telling me that she and Gold haven’t….you know.”

“Fucked?” Ruby said in amazement. “You’re telling me you haven’t tapped that yet? Lacey!”

“Shut up!” Lacey hissed, throwing a worried look at the stairs. “It’s complicated!”

“What’s complicated?” Ruby shot back. 

Lacey slapped a hand to her forehead. “Guys, it’s not like he’s a guy I picked up from a bar.”

“No, he’s a demon you summoned into this world, lived with for almost a year, and stared at longingly when you thought no one was looking.”

“I did not!”

“Okay, maybe not, but there was definite chemistry.”

“Oh, god, yes,” Mary Margaret agreed. “You couldn’t be in the same room with the two of you without feeling like you were intruding.”

“You are making this up! I didn’t even know I liked him until-until…”

“Until you wound up in his arms seconds after almost getting killed?” Ruby said. “According to Neal, you didn’t come up for air for an hour.”

“Who didn’t come up for air?”

David strolled into the kitchen, picking up the bottle of whiskey with an appreciative whistle. “This is nice stuff!” he said, cracking the seal while reaching for a tumbler. “Thanks Ruby.”

“Don’t mention it,” she said, winking at Mary Margaret which caused them both to dissolve into giggles. 

Lacey didn’t join in, still too tense. A warm hand descended on her shoulder, and she leaned back into Rumple’s chest as David handed him a glass. “Thank you,” Rumple said, as Lacey’s hand reached up to hold his.

It wasn’t weird. After the fight, he had taken her back to her place, and they had fallen asleep watching reruns of that stupid show he liked so much. The next day, he had just...not left and within a week, they had fallen into an easy pattern. They still fought, and bickered, and complained about every little thing but it was just understood. 

Except one little thing.

\--

“Hey,” Lacey said, slipping her arm through Rumple’s as they headed down the street back to her apartment.

“Yes?” he replied, slowing slightly as they hit an icy patch in dereference to her heels. 

“Do you….do you think it’s weird we haven’t had sex yet?”

To his credit, he didn’t seem surprised or taken back by her directness. He did stop, and bending down, pressed a lingering kiss to the corner of her lips. Lacey’s arms drifted over his shoulders, pulling him closer for warmth and because she liked the way he felt against her. 

With a hum, she tilted her face to kiss him properly, and though the kiss deepened, there was nothing frenzied about it. They had done this countless times before, but it always felt new.

“Lacey,” he murmured, his leather gloves brushing snow off her cheeks. “I’m very old, but I am not dead yet. I simply assumed…”

“That I wasn’t ready?” Lacey finished for him, snaking her arms around his waist. 

He nodded, looking carefully at her. “Was I wrong?”

She shook her head, placing her head on his chest. “No,” she admitted with a sigh. “I want to...I just...I just don’t feel…”

He tilted her chin back up until she was gazing into Gold’s dark brown eyes. “Is it the idea of laying with a demon?”

Lacey snorted. “No. I admit I found your demon form repulsive at first but...it’s kind of...grown on me,” she said, lightly tracing the line of his arm through his jacket.“Especially the pants.”

He shook his head at her but he had a slight shadow of a smile. “This form was the man I was before...before I turned,” he reminded her. “It’s not a lie or a facade, just a different way of looking at things.”

“I know that,” Lacey said. “It’s not that, I promise. I just...I’m not ready yet.”

“Ah,” he said, and kissed her again until she was breathless. “That’s okay too,” he whispered to her, pressing his forehead against her’s. 

“I will be soon,” she told him, reaching up to seize his overcoat lapels in her mittens. “I just need to work on somethings…”

Like what she was going to do about the demon still running free that had killed her friend.

Or what she was supposed to tell the Order of the Three when they found out she was dating a demon.

Not to mention, she was a bridesmaid in Ariel’s wedding, godmother to a child she had yet to hold, and best friends with a werewolf who was in a love triangle with a zombie and a psychiatrist. 

“Take your time,” he told her. “Some things are worth waiting for.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cause it's the holidays and I missed these weirdos. 
> 
> I can't believe it's the Christmas season and you know what that means! 24 more chapters until this whole thing is done! We're going to be spending Christmas with the gang this time and I can't wait to explore what happens next with you!


	53. Chapter 53

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Maybe DoDo has a past with Colette or he knows what actually happened to her?

_December 1st, 2016_

Christmas had arrived in Storybrooke as it did every December. Christmas lights were strung up all over town, wreaths decked every door and the farmer’s market was doing a booming trade in pine trees.

Lacey watched all this from her usual booth at Granny’s. A small station wagon drove by, a christmas tree strapped to its hood and its occupants singing along to SB101’s christmas programming. “Shoot me,” Lacey mumbled into her coffee.

“That can be arranged,” Regina said, sliding into the booth. “What’s with you?”

Lacey shifted her eyes away from the scene of winter domesticity outside. “I’m just not a Christmas person,” she replied. “You’re late.”

Regina shrugged. “I’m the Mayor. A weekly meeting with the remaining member of my coven is hardly high on my priority list.”

“About that…”

Scenting danger, Regina lifted her gaze from the laminated menu. “What did you do?” she demanded as Granny hurried over with a pot of coffee.

“Madam Mayor,” the diner owner greeted. She refilled Lacey’s cup without being prompted. Regina eyed the coffee and with a sigh, accepted the spare mug Granny had brought for her. “Anything to eat?” the owner asked them.

“Hamburger with fries,” Lacey ordered but Regina shook her head. Granny hustled away, nearly knocking over Ruby who was in the middle of hanging garland over the kitchen doorway.

Regina sat back in her seat and crossed her arms. “This isn’t a social call,” she grumbled. “I only agreed to continue these meetings because Maleficent's killer is still running free in my town.”

“Believe me, I don't’ get any joy out of this either,” Lacey told her.

The bell over the door jangled to life, but Lacey didn’t need to turn to see who it was. A tingle of magic crept up her spine, as Regina’s eyes narrowed. “Reul?” she spat under her breath. “You invited Reul?”

“Regina.”

The nun stood at the end of the table, peeling her gloves off as she smiled down at them. Regina scowled up at her, body tense as a spring.  “Mother Superior,” she said through gritted teeth. “What a surprise.”

“Hey, Reul,” Lacey said, scooting over for the nun to sit beside her.

“I apologize for being late,” Reul said.

“It’s fine, Regina just got here too.”

“Oh?” Reul asked, turning to Regina. “Anything to do with Mr. Glass? I passed him a few minutes ago. He was heading back to the Daily Mirror from the direction of the Mayor’s House.”

“Sydney and I were discussing Storybrooke’s Annual Christmas Parade,” Regina spat. “What’s this about, Lacey?”

“I thought it was about time we pooled our resources,” Lacey replied. “We all want the same thing.”

“Do we?” Reul asked. The witch turned nun looked relaxed, but her posture was too tense, as if she was ready to spring up from the table at a moment’s notice. Across the way, Regina was as equally as tense, but it was far more likely she would lunge across the table.

“We have a demon on the loose-”

“Two.”

Lacey paused. “What?”

Reul gave her a condescending smile. “Storybrooke has two demons on the loose,” she repeated. “Both of which you summoned, incidentally.”

Lacey’s smile tightened. She had expected this, but it still wasn’t pleasant. “Reul, the Dark One is an ally.”

Reul laughed. “An ally? Is that what they’re calling it these days?”

Granny arrived with Lacey’s lunch, and if she was surprised to see a nun at the table, she did not show it. “Can I get you anything, Mother Superior?”

“No, thank you,” Reul replied with a smile.

“Why,” Regina drawled, “are we meeting in public in the first place? It’s going to be all over town that the Mother Superior was seen in the Mayor’s company with the town’s wild child.”

“Tell them we started a book club,” Lacey told her. “Besides, this is neutral ground.” Neither of them responded to that. “Now, if we can get back to business?”

“Are you proposing an alliance with the Church?” Reul asked her.

“Over my dead body!” Regina exclaimed. “I know exactly how those work. If we give you an inch, you’ll take a mile.”

“Well,” Reul said icily, collecting her gloves. “If that’s how you feel...”

Lacey slammed a hand on the table, startling the whole diner. “People are dying!” Lacey hissed at them under her breath. “Four more disappearances this week, and three deaths in November.”

“Five,” Regina said.

“Five?” Lacey repeated incredulously. “Who?”

“Jacqueline Freeman and Michael Zimmer.”

“Zimmer?” Reul repeated. “The widower?”  
  
Regina nodded. “He went missing back in October, but his body washed up on shore last week.” She caught Lacey’s eye. “His kids identified him this morning. He had the markings.”

Lacey winced. A demon was created through a very painful process, in which at the end of hours of torture, the victim was given the choice to change or die. “So, he’s still trying to create more demons,” she said.

“It appears so,” Regina sighed. “I met with Sydney to ensure the paper stays on our side. Deputy Nolan is doing a fine job of keeping things under wraps in his department, and since Dr. Whale changed professions to run the Storybrooke Morgue, we’ve been able to keep a lid on this, but people are beginning to grow nervous.”

“No shit,” Lacey scoffed. “That brings the death toll this year up to thirty, half of them with those markings.”

“Are we certain it is just the Old One attempting to create new demons?” Reul asked pointedly.

Regina rolled her eyes. “The Dark One does not play nice with others,” she reminded her. “He has been a demon for nigh four centuries and never once broken that particular law.”

“Perhaps, not that law,” Reul agreed, her eyes cutting to Lacey. “However, he does have a proclivity to witches.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Lacey asked her, twisting to face her in the seat.

“As if I don’t know you’ve been cavorting with a demon for the past two months,” Reul said. “You’re not the first he has seduced, you know.”

“Yea, Regina’s mom boned him back in the 1800’s,” Lacey said. Regina nearly spit out her mouthful of coffee. “Plus, I’m friends with his son, born of a witch. You know what they say though, let she without sin cast the first stone, and honey, I’ve fucked my own fair share of men and women, so who am I to judge?”

“The Law states no witch shall lay with a demon!” Reul said, spots of color appearing on her cheeks. “It is an abomination!”

“It’s none of your business!” Lacey shot back. “Besides, what are you going to do? Fine me?”

Reul opened her mouth but Regina cut in. “Enough. If you two want to discuss the depraved love life of a demon, you can do it without me. Or we can discuss how we are going to remove a sociopathic demon from our town before people stop believing these are accidents and grow suspicious.”

It had never sat well with Lacey, the decision to keep the town in the dark, but to Mal’s and Regina’s point, how could they explain a demon was on the loose without outing the entire magical community?

Reul sniffed. “I will not align myself with demons,” she said. “The Church follows the Laws of the Three. I will gladly join with you, the Storybrooke Coven, but only if you break away from the Dark One.”

“Not going to happen,” Regina said, surprising Lacey. “However, if you have any information pertaining to open cases, you are by the law of the United States of America, obliged to share that or we will have you brought up on obstruction charges.”

Reul laughed and stood from the table. “Do that. The Cardinal himself will be down here within the hour, and the associated press will receive a folder of information on a small town in Maine. Covered up homicides, missing people, not to mention voter fraud evidence…”

“Thank you for your time, Reul,” Regina said through her teeth. “Now, kindly fuck off.”

Reul did not bother to reply. She turned on her heel and disappeared past where Ruby was decorating a large christmas tree.

“You can stop eavesdropping,” Lacey said over her shoulder.

“Don’t know what you’re talking about,” Ruby said, taking Reul’s empty spot. “What was all that about?”

Lacey winked and reached for her phone. “Distraction.”

“Who are you texting?” Regina demanded.

“Leroy,” Lacey said with a grin.

“Who’s Leroy?” Regina asked, peering over to the table to see Lacey’s phone.

“Friend of mine,” Lacey told her. “He’s in love with a nun up at the convent named Astrid. He’s been volunteering up there for months now.”

“Oh shit!” Ruby said, grabbing the phone from Lacey. “Are they-?”

“No,” Lacey said, sitting back and crossing her arms over her chest. “Astrid doesn’t feel right abandoning the Church in their time of need. However, she is more sympathetic to star crossed lovers. She’s been feeding Leroy information since November but we needed to know exactly what information Reul has. I tried to ask her nicely.”

“You are an evil genius,” Ruby laughed, handing the phone back to her.

Regina twisted her mouth. “You could have let me know.”

“And risk you being smug the entire time? Reul would have known something was up. You were perfect by the way.”

“Glad to be of help,” Regina deadpanned. “If there isn’t anything else?”

“I’ll stop by later with what Leroy brings back,” Lacey said with a nod.

“You know,” Ruby said, shooting a look back at the kitchens. “People are starting to notice you two spending time together. Gepetto was in here last week, and he asked Granny about it.”

“He’s a nosy old man,” Lacey grumbled, “but you have a point.”

Regina waved a hand. “It’s fine. There’s money in the town budget for a mayor’s assistant. I’ve never hired anyone as any human is bound to notice I’ve never had to run for re-election or aged eventually."

“About that-” Ruby started but Lacey elbowed her.

“I’m not going to be your assistant.”

“Fine. We’ll call it something else. Public Relations Director?”

Lacey thought about it a second before nodding. “I don’t have to actually do anything, do I?”

Regina sighed. “You can make your own hours but you’ll have to come by the office once a day for a few hours, handle a few e-mails, make a few calls but I handle most of the town business.”

“Fine,” Lacey agreed. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Bring coffee,” Regina said as she stood. “Not this garbage.”

“Hey!” Ruby said, but Regina had already left.

“You don’t even like this stuff,” Lacey reminded her. “You go to Chip’s Cup all the time.”

“Yea, but she doesn’t need to know that,” Ruby grumbled. “Want to help me finish decorating?”

Lacey looked over to the tree, lights wrapped around it and an angel balanced precariously on top. She shook her head. “You know how I feel about Christmas, Rubes.”

Her friend patted her on the back. “Yea, I thought, maybe with everything, you might have changed your mind.”

Lacey bit into her now cold hamburger. “No such luck.”

\--

By the time Lacey arrived home, it was dark outside.

“I hate Daylight’s Savings,” she grumbled as the door swung closed behind her on its own. “What’s for dinner?” The smell of pizza greeted her in answer, Papa Geptto’s pizzas stacked on the oven. “Rumple,” Lacey groaned. “Tell me you didn’t.”

“I paid for them,” he said from where he sat on the couch. “You know, I think that old man has some magic in him. He knows it’s me every time I try and place an order and I  even called from a Rome number earlier.”

“Oh?” Lacey asked, moving to grab a slice. The lid snapped shut on her hand before she could slip it out. “Hey!” she protested, turning to find her roommate right behind her.

“Hello there,” he said, slipping his arms around her. “How did the parley go?”

Lacey relinquished her pizza, leaning back against him with a sigh. “About how I expected. Reul didn’t suspect anything but she made it clear we’re on her radar.”

“The Church hasn’t prosecuted anyone in a century,” he assured her. “Why, Cora and I...”

He fell silent, and Lacey elbowed him playfully. “Relax,” she laughed. “I don’t care you slept with Regina’s mother back in the Victorian age. Want me to tell you a story about a priest’s nephew and a confessional booth?”

“Not really,” he said.

Lacey twisted around to drape her arms over his shoulder. She leaned into to kiss him, only to lean away laughing. “You already ate, didn’t you!”

He tried and failed to look innocent. “I would never-!”

“You taste like anchovies.”

“Just a slice.”

Lacey broke away to grab a slice of her own. “What’s on tonight?” she asked as he waved a hand to fetch them some glasses. The wine poured itself as they returned back to the couch.

“I have to meet Leroy at the Rabbit Hole later,” Lacey told him, propping her feet up on his lap. “Oh, and I got a job.”

“You got a job?” he repeated incredulously. “LIke an actual one?”

She kicked him playfully. “People are getting curious why Regina and I are spending so much time together. So, meet the new Public Relations Director of Storybrooke.”

He looked at her in bewilderment. “What does that entail exactly?”

Lacey shrugged. “I have no idea. I get paid though.”

“You don’t need money, you’re a witch,” he reminded her, helping himself to another slice of his smelly pizza. “You’ve gone thirty five years without a job, why start now?”

“Thirty-four!”

He looked over at her with a raised brow. “Your birthday is in twenty-seven days,” he reminded her.

“Then I’m still thirty-four for twenty seven days,” she said. The television chose that moment to return to what Rumple had been watching and Lacey fell silent.

“We’ll have to send someone down. There a lot of people asking for help for a man named George Bailey.”

Stars twinkled in a black and white sky, gritty and grainy on her less than stellar television set. It didn’t matter, her eyes were full of tears now.

“Sweetheart?”

“Turn it off,” Lacey managed, as Clarence joined the voices.

The set went dead. Rumple did not move to touch her, waiting as she tried to get a hold of herself.

“I...I’m sorry,” she finally said with a deep inhalation. “That was...my mother’s favorite movie. I wasn’t-I didn’t expect...”

It was a holiday classic. It played every Christmas like clockwork, but Lacey’s magic had always somehow prevented her from seeing it.

“Lacey.”

“December 13th, 1996,” Lacey said. “Twenty years ago.”

“Ah,” he said. “That would explain your aversion to Christmas.”

That was putting it lightly. Lacey detested Christmas. She hated the fake good cheer, the cold, the expectations of gifts, the religious preaching hope and salvation and most of all she hated the reminder that she was alone.

“It’s a stupid holiday,” Lacey mumbled. “Materialistism parading as sentimentalism, righteousness pretending at religiousness. Most of their stupid christian traditions are pagan in the first place.”

“I’m aware,” he said with a slight hint of humor. “I was around during the pagan days, you know.”

Lacey shook her head. “Sorry,” she said, reaching for her wine. “It just startled me. I haven’t...seen that movie since I was a kid.”

The night before the accident to be precise.

They had stayed up even though it was a school night, snuggled up on the couch. Maurice had gone to bed hours ago, assuming they were right behind him.

“It’ll be our secret,” Collette had whispered down to her. “You and me.”

The next day, she was gone. A car wreck, an accident. Lacey had never told anyone they had stayed up all night watching It’s a Wonderful Life, but she had always wondered….had Colette fallen asleep behind the wheel?

A soft touch on the back of her hand brought her back to her living room. She grabbed his hand, squeezed softly and then let it go. “I don’t miss her,” she told him. “Not anymore. Sometimes I wish things were different but…”

She offered him a wan smile, but it slid off her face at the look on his. “What?” she demanded, knowing him too well. “What is it?”

“I may...may have done some digging on your mother.”

Lacey froze. “You said...you said you didn’t know anything.”

“I didn’t,” he told her. “Nor could I find anything on her, which I found odd. There are few witches these days, and as you discovered last year, she was aware of her powers. Those photos you found in your father’s attic went back to the early 1900’s, so I started there.”

“You had no right to do that.”

The bathroom light bulb popped, and the window over the sink began to rattle.

“Focus,” he murmured. “You’re losing control.”

Lacey opened her mouth to snarl at him and the television exploded. She ducked, casting a hand out, and her magic collided with Rumple’s own, knocking the couch backwards onto the floor and throwing them both clear.

“Goddamnit!” Lacey swore. Her shirt was stained red with wine, and the glass lay broken on the floor between them.

Rumple waved a hand and the stain, glass, and mess vanished as the couch righted itself. The television set was a smoking ruin, the back wall burned and blackened.“You can take care of that,” he said with a nod towards the destruction. “Good thing you got a job, you’re going to need a new tv.”

“Fuck the TV,” Lacey sighed, sitting up and drawing her knees to her chest. “Fuck this season. Fuck it all.”

He sat back down next to her, close enough without actually touching her. “I didn’t find much,” he told her, voice low. “I traced her as far back as pre-revolutionary America, Colette being a fairly rare name and one she kept throughout her lifetimes.”

“Was I her only child?”

He nodded. “From what I can tell. She married two or three times, mostly marriages of convenience it appears. Her husbands were often much older, or closeted men of means. Once the forties were over, she did not marry again until the late seventies.”

“They met at a market,” Lacey told him, tracing the woodgrain in the floor. “Papa was walking through, head in the clouds as usual when he smelled roses.” She smiled to herself. “Mama always smelled of roses but these were actual roses, being sold by a flower cart. Next to them, a woman was walking by with her nose in a book, she was about to walk right into the flower cart, so Papa tried to warn her. They both ended up tripping over a bucket of flowers.”

“”A witch would not have to look where she’s going,” Rumple pointed out. “He actually caused the very thing he was trying to avoid.”

Lacey shrugged. “Mama must not have minded. They got married a year later and I came along four years later. She always told me I was special.”

“You are at that.”

She reached out her hand on the floor to grasp his. “I’m sorry,” she said softly. “I don’t like talking about Mama.”

“I’m sorry too,” he said, squeezing her hand. “I didn’t find anything of interest, and I didn’t think it wise to dredge up the past for no reason.”

“I lied,” she said after a moment. “I do miss her. I miss her everyday. Maybe not in the same way but… I was so mad at her for not staying with me, I just buried it under everything else.”

“I could keep looking?” he offered. “Perhaps we could go overseas and continue looking for her past once this whole situation with- what do you call him?”

“Bozo,” Lacey said with a grin.

“Ah, yes. Once this mess with Bozo is over.”

Lacey leaned her head on his shoulder. “I’d like that.”  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this prompt was kind of sneaky. Rumple doesn't know Colette or what happened to her- BUT- she is going to play a part in this storyline as it is the 20th anniversary of her death. Author's Note- In previous chapters, I mentioned Lacey was 16 when her mother died. However, the last December 13th was in 1996, which means she would have been 14. I changed it the two mentions prior to this, but just wanted to let you all know as well. 
> 
> So, this is going to kick off 25 days of Christmas House Guest Finale! That's right. Twenty-five days of House Guest. (Hopefully. You'll get them but not sure if they are going to be daily or if it will bleed over past Christmas but hey! We'll see.)


	54. Chapter 54

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Has DoDo/Gold gotten David hooked on his show Ever After yet? Has Lacey walked in on them totally immersed watching an episode and arguing about their different ships or the story line?

_ December 2nd, 2016 _

There was the smell of smoke in the air. The sun crept downward to the horizon as Lacey walked down the sidewalks. People were starting to get off work, sneaking out a little early on the Friday afternoon. A few even waved to her, and after the third or fourth incident, she even waved back. 

Mary Margaret opened the door before she even got up to the porch. “There you are,” she said in lieu of greeting. Emma was in her arms, fussing slightly. Lacey paused, eyeing the child warily. “It’s feeding time,” Mary Margaret explained, gesturing Lacey inside. “Don’t worry, it’s nothing you haven’t seen before.”   


Lacey wasn’t so sure of that, but she couldn’t very well turn and run so she let herself be ushered inside. “Where’s the guys?” she asked. The house smelled of baby, something clean and fresh and at the same time faintly of spit up and dirty diapers. 

“They’re upstairs in the den,” Mary Margaret told her. “Wine?”

“Got anything stronger?”

Mary Margaret waved towards the bar cart. “Help yourself.”

Lacey flicked her wrist. From the kitchen, a bottle of honey came shooting out of a cabinet. Mary Margaret took a step to the side as a mug followed behind it.  “Hot Toddy?” Lacey asked her, catching the mug in mid air. With a twist of her middle finger, hot water filled up the mug, steam rising to color her cheeks. 

“Maybe later,” Mary Margaret sighed as the bourbon tilted itself into Lacey’s waiting cup. 

“You have any cinnamon?” 

Mary Margaret shrugged. “Does it matter?”

“Not really,” Lacey said, and in the next moment, a cinnamon stick appeared in her drink as if it had been there all along. “Saw Leroy last night. He says hi.”

“Leroy,” Mary Margaret said, “is skating on thin ice. This is the second dinner he’s said no to.”

“He’s busy spying on the nuns. Plus, he would be the fifth wheel,” Lacey said, patting her friend's shoulder. “You’re married and your best friends are a witch and a demon. Leroy doesn’t need any more complications in his life.”

Mary Margaret huffed. “I just want him to feel welcome.” She started unbuttoning her top and Lacey took an involuntary step backwards straight into the bar cart. Mary Margaret sighed. “Go upstairs with the boys,” she said with a shake of her head. 

“You sure?” Lacey asked, already shifting towards the stairs. “If you want the company, I could…”

“Go,” Mary Margaret told her. “Or I’ll make you help me pump afterwards.”

Lacey did not wait to find out what that meant. She turned and fled up the stairs with her hot toddy, relief coursing through her. She’d make it up to Mary Margaret later, maybe magically change a diaper or something before she left. 

The den was lit up with the giant screen television, and some local car dealership commercial floated down the hallway to her. David and Rumple were talking, but their voices were muffled by the exuberant voice of Jumpin Jack Flash.

David’s raised voice carried out to her as the commercial ended and a new (quieter) one began. “It makes no sense. Why would she get a job?”   


Lacey stilled just short of the doorway, forehead wrinkled. 

“She had to. People were beginning to talk.”

“She’s never worked a day in her life. How is she going to handle a job like that?”

“I’m sure she’ll manage. She’s very capable.”

David scoffed. “Whatever you say, buddy. Ten bucks this blows up in her face.”

Lacey had heard enough. “Fuck you, David,” she said, stepping around the corner. Her hot toddy bubbled slightly as her core center burned with fury. “I’ll have you know I handled myself just fine today!” 

It was a lie. She had no idea how to do anything in excel, had hung up on four different people by mistake, and had almost fried the ancient computer Regina had given her when it froze for the tenth time in an hour.

David blinked at her. “Sorry?” he said, looking over to Rumple in bewilderment.

Rumple’s grinned, reaching up to tug her down for a kiss. She went begrudgingly, still glaring at David. “She thinks you’re talking about her,” Rumple said as Lacey sat on the couch between them. “I was going to let her tell you the news at dinner.”

“Oh, I didn’t know!” David hurried to assure her. “I was talking about this show we’re watching. Congratulations, Lacey! What are you doing?”

Before she could reply, the television in front of them grew black, and then, a familiar set of faces appeared all looking serious and heroic. “Oh, God,” Lacey groaned. “This again?” 

Rumple shrugged. “New season started last month. You blew up the television last night so I had to come over here to watch it.”

“You blew up your TV?”

“So, I didn’t have to watch this anymore,” Lacey said. “What’s your excuse?” 

David shrugged, abashed. “He left a bunch of episodes on the DVR when he moved out and since Emma’s been keeping us up at night...I just started watching it...you know, to pass the time. It just kind of sucks you in.”

Lacey sighed. “It does. So, who’s your favorite character?” 

He looked guilty. “Uh.”

“He likes the merman,” Rumple told her.

“The merman?” Lacey repeated in horror. “You like the merman? He’s the bad guy!”

“He’s on a redemption arc!” David protested weakly. 

“I would have pegged you for more the federal agent,” Lacey said, sipping her drink. “White Knight and all that.”

“I like him too,” David agreed. “He’s just a little too wishy washy. Sometimes he helps the Immortal and sometimes he works against him. Just needs to make up his mind.”

“Is Hope back from the third dimension?” Lacey asked. She had stopped watching the stupid show after being furious over her favorite character’s arc in the last season. 

“Yea but the actress got pregnant so now she’s trapped in a coma.”

“Ugh!” Lacey groaned. “This is the stupidest show.”

Rumple frowned at her.. “If you’re going to be rude, go back downstairs with Mary Margaret.”

“Uh, just don’t say anything. She’ll be furious if she finds out I’ve been watching ahead,” David whispered, shooting a worried look at the door. “She’s still on last season.”

“Mary Margaret watches this too?” Lacey groaned. “God, they should be paying you for the amount of people you’ve hooked on this soap opera.”

“Who says they aren’t?”

“She’s really interested in the bank robber and senator’s storyline,” David said under his breath. “I was so tired last night, I almost made a comment not to get too attached. She’d kill me if I spoiled his death.”

“He’s dead?” Lacey said, perking up slightly. “Did the leprechaun lady kill him?”

“No, the leprechaun's ex-boyfriend, the arsonist did.”

“Wait, who?”

Rumple grumbled. “If you are two don’t mind, I want to finish this episode.”

Lacey held her hand up and the screen went dark. Ignoring Rumple’s sputtered noises of protest, she turned to David. “So, you like the merman with the blonde?”

He eyed her warily. “I might.”

“Careful…” Rumple warned David.

“What about the Immortal’s son?” Lacey asked. “Or the Senator?”

“The Senator?” David said, brow wrinkling. “They’re just friends.”

Lacey scoffed. “Uh, no. They’re definitely eye fucking in nine out of ten scenes.”

David looked lost. “But they hated each other up to last season.”

“Did they?”

“Okay you two,” Rumple sighed. “Agree to disagree.”

Lacey winked at David, knowing Rumple couldn’t see her. “What do you think about the Immortal?” Lacey asked.

David picked up on it. After all, it was hard to miss who Rumple’s favorite character was. If you so much as coughed during an Immortal scene, he rewound it. “Oh. That guy.”

Behind her, Rumple tensed. 

“I think he’s kind of hot,” Lacey said with a shrug. “But he does have some issues…”

“Have you seen this season?” David asked with a wince. “He’s gone full evil again.”

“He’s trying to return Hope to this reality,” Rumple said. “The federal agent and the rest of them are just mucking things up as they usually do. If he’s evil, he would have killed them all by now.”

David shook his head. “The blonde has super powers,” he reminded them. “If she wanted to end the Immortal, it wouldn’t take much-”

“The blonde?!”

David’s face cracked a bit so Lacey jumped in.

“I could kind of see that,” she said, tapping her chin. “Maybe Hope would be better off without him. I heard a rumor they might break up this season.”

“That’s it!” Rumple stood, brushing his suit off. “If you two are going to talk nonsense, I’m going downstairs.” He swept out of the room, leaving them both shaking with suppressed laughter. 

“Did you see his face?” Lacey whispered, clutching her side. “He’s not going to speak to me all night. He loves Hope and the Immortal together. I’ve read his fan fic.”

“Oh the fan fic,” David chuckled. “I walked in on him writing it once. Never seen anyone go that color purple before.”

“Oh, man,” Lacey said, wiping away tears. “Is this season any better than the last?”

David shook his head. “It’s strangely addictive though.”

From downstairs, there was a shriek and a crash. Both David and Lacey jumped up, and went hurtling down the stairs to find Mary Margaret on the couch, Emma screaming and Rumple frozen in the middle of the doorway. 

“He startled me,” Mary Margaret said as David hurried to her side. “I was half asleep, I didn’t hear him come down the stairs!”

“She threw the pump at me,” Rumple told Lacey, holding the offending object up. He had spatters of milk on his jacket and looked a little green despite his human facade. 

“There, there,” Lacey said, taking the object gingerly to deposit it back on the table. “Let’s get you something to drink.”

He held a hand up. “No,” he said with a decisive nod of his head. “Nothing to drink.”

Lacey tried to hide her smile, but he saw it. “Careful,” he warned, “or I’ll make sure you’re stuck on baby duty for the rest of the night.”

Emma’s screams grew louder at this threat. Mary Margaret handed her over to David as she unbuttoned her blouse. “Sorry, Gold,” she said with a wince. “I haven’t been sleeping very much. I haven’t been doing anything very much actually.”

“Why don’t you two have Lacey watch her one evening? Let you get out of the house for a bit?” Both of them looked to Lacey. “She is Emma’s godmother after all, plus a capable witch.”

“What about Bozo?” Mary Margaret asked, and Lacey was a bit proud to know that nickname had stuck. Now that she knew Rumple’s true name, DoDo had gone the way of the dodo bird. He was Gold with everyone else, and Rumple when it was just them. Names had power as he often reminded her.

“He’s not going to make a play for the baby,” Rumple assured them. “She’s the step-granddaughter of a witch, goddaughter to a witch and a demon, and honorary niece to a werewolf.  If he pokes that hornet’s nest, he’s madder than I thought.”

“How is Jefferson?” 

“Still looking,” Rumple sighed. “The dagger is the key to ending this, but it’s proved elusive.”

“Jefferson’s the jumper, right?” David asked, trying to keep up. “The one who showed up at our resort in Cabo?”

Lacey nodded. “The very one.”

Emma was finally quieting, so Mary Margaret took her from David. The clock on the wall chimed as five o’clock arrived. “Oh, rats,” Mary Margaret groaned. “I haven’t even started cooking.”

“Let’s order in,” David suggested quickly. “Maybe watch some movies?”

“Or…”

“No!” Lacey said, swatting her roommate. “No Happy Endings.”

  
“Oh, I love that show!” Mary Margaret exclaimed. “Let’s watch that!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a silly fill for this fun prompt!


	55. Chapter 55

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DoDo's reaction if Lacey was in danger

_December 3rd, 2016  
_

Demons did not sleep.

They could close their eyes, lay absolutely still and feign slumber, but there was no need. Living amongst mortals had always proved frustrating on this level. They spent so much of their time asleep, while he had to stand, twiddling his thumbs, until they awoke.

Sure, this had allowed him to master every language, read libraries in a span of months, and catch up on his soaps, but there were certain drawbacks to it.

“Rumple, I swear to God, if you don’t go shut that computer off, I will banish you.”

Lacey scowled at him from her nest of blankets and pillows. It was three or so in the morning, and by the looks of her, she wasn’t kidding. The television was still a burned ruin, so he had been forced to improvise, using her laptop to watch his shows online. He sometimes curled up around her when she fell asleep on the couch, but her bed was too small for two to lay comfortably. Besides, the familiar was territorial. Queenie’s small oddly colored body was just visible on the pillow beside Lacey.

He shut the computer off, and Lacey rolled over to go back to sleep. He sat there in the dark a moment, before deciding to go out for a walk for a bit. He did not need to change his face for this, no one would be out at this time of night. The bars had been closed for an hour already, and the morning birds wouldn’t wake up for another few hours.

Lacey did not stir as he let himself out, so he reinforced the wards behind him. When he got outside, the air was crisp and cool, silent as the grave. He chose to walk to the right, away from the town square, out toward the beach.

He arrived at the beach, and sat down at the water’s edge. His leather breeches would not track sand back into the apartment, so he sprawled out a bit, savoring the cold bite of the Atlantic air.

“What brings you to this desolate stretch?”

“Ah, Jefferson,” he greeted as the jumper dropped down to the sand beside him. “I wondered if I would see you soon.”

“I was waiting for the right time,” Jefferson said, “but time is never on our side.”

Rumplestitlskin nodded. “What did you find?”

Jefferson shook his head, his hat falling into the sand between his spread out legs. “Plenty of things,” he said, reaching into his pocket. He pulled out a yo-yo, a wooden bird and a buffalo nickel. Then, he unearthed an arrow, a pair of bike handles and a lamp shade.

“Did you find a certain dagger to go along with those?”

Jefferson paused in admiring his new treasures to pat his pockets. “No,” he said, thinking to himself. “No dagger. No answers. Nothing but a few more discoveries that are worth nothing to you and everything to me.”

“You’ve been jumping to the future,” Rumplestitlskin said, recognizing the symptoms. “How far did you go this time?”

“Too far, and not far enough,” Jefferson sighed. “It’s still evolving. Some trips things are exactly the same. Other times, there is nothing but waste. And once, there was a very interesting encounter-”

“Jefferson,” Rumplestitlskin interrupted. “What is it you came to tell me?”

The jumper thumped the side of his head with the heel of his hand. It made an odd sound, hollow but as if the skull held water. “I have some questions for you.”

Rumplestitlskin nodded. If the jumper had questions, it meant he had seen something that had bothered him in his trips. Jefferson did not often trust the future, having been burned by it before.

“Go ahead then.”

The jumper scratched at his cheek, eyes out into the black horizon where the sky and sea met. Rumplestitlskin had known the jumper for many years, and this was the stillest he had ever seen him. “Death is beyond even your control, Dark One. What will you do when death reaps what you love the most?”

Baelfire’s face flashed in his mind’s eye. “Death is an old friend,” he said, though his fingers clenched where they lay in the sand. “No one lives forever.”

Jefferson’s gaze shifted to where the tide washed upon the sand, barely visible in the darkness. “Death is a friend,” he agreed. “When it comes for you, will you bargain for more time?”

“No,” Rumplestitlskin said with conviction. “When it comes for me, I will meet it.” He had, in his four centuries, only run for death once. It had been that day in the castle, fire licking everything around him. The spinner…the spinner had chosen to forfeit his soul, cast aside his name and forgo his humanity all to escape the clutches of death for a moment more. The next time it came for him, he would be ready.

The wind kicked up Jefferson’s hat, and it rose as if to fly away on its own accord before falling back to the sand. Its owner turned his red-rimmed eyes to Rumplestitlskin. “Death hangs heavy over this town. It stalks the streets and rattles the windows and the Old One calls him closer and closer. There is unrest here. Death reaps those who should have had more years. I have seen a future where there is victory, I have seen a future with defeat, and I have seen the great grey in-between. Death is in each because you made a different decision in each. Do you know what those decisions are?”

“I do,” Rumplestitlskin murmured. “I could begin to reap souls again. Choose revenge on the demon who created me, cast him down and raise myself up over him to take control of the lands of the damned.”

It had been too long since he reaped souls. His magic was low. Lacey had not noticed, her own magic had filled in the cracks, had covered for him in small ways that the witch did not even notice. Regina did, as did the Nun. They would not tolerate him here if they thought him a true threat, but would that end in victory?

“I might decide to lay low, let the Law of Three take care of the Old One for me. Trust the power of others and abide by their decisions.”

They would pass judgement on his head as well as Zozo. He had broken enough of their laws without punishment, but if brought before them now, with a third witch corrupted by his touch, they would not be lenient. Would such a sacrifice be worth it?

Time had a funny way of acting around the jumper.  The dawn creeped over the horizon. Lacey would still be asleep, not until he crawled into the bed with her. Saturday mornings were spent curled together, no sound but their breathing and nothing to do but relax into each other. It was their small moment in time, their escape from the insanity of their reality.

“Or…I could trust in her.”

He had indulged in this behavior twice in the past.

Milah had been bare steel and flame. She had met him naked and unafraid, determined to save her own life no matter the cost. Magic had its ironies. It had given her what she had wanted but at the cost of her own life. Their time together had only ever centered around the child in her belly, the deal that connected them throughout eternity.

Then, there had been Cora. She too had called him in her lowest hour. Perhaps that is why she fascinated him so. In her fury and her despair, she had brought him forward and though he had hoped to reap her soul, she had been too smart for him. She had ripped her own heart and soul free from her chest, free from his reach, killing the woman he had met that fateful day for good. No, the Cora after that, he had not known. She was more demon than witch by the end.

He had not thought to ever be tempted again, and yet, here he was.

“She is not your past.”

Pulled back from his thoughts, Rumplestitlskin returned to the beach. Jefferson stood now, morning joggers could be seen in the distance. He pulled the glamor of Gold over him, moving to stand closer to the water in hopes his leathers would look more like a wetsuit in the early morning light. Lacey would be waking up soon.

“You would have reaped her soul for ultimate power once upon a time,” Jefferson continued. “If she offered her soul to you now, would you take it?”

Something dark twisted in Rumplestitlskin’s chest, something needy and grasping, woken by the sheer mention of such an idea. The thought of Lacey, pale and still, quelled it. A witch without a soul would not live beyond the day, her magic would consume her whole. It had been why he had been content to wait for Milah and Cora to meet their end. He had no urgent need for their souls then, and neither of them would have ever offered.

Lacey though…

“No,” he replied finally. “Not even if she begged me.”


	56. Chapter 56

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Doppelgänger Belle

_Sunday December 4th, 2016_

Tugging her hood back in place, Ruby checked both directions before she crossed the street. A few cars were still bustling home from their Sunday activities, a few diner regulars even waved at her from the warmth of their cars but nobody else was out walking in the rain.

Ruby didn’t have much of a choice, seeing as she didn’t have a car. Working in a diner didn’t add up to much, and Ruby would rather wear her earnings, not drive around in them. Thankfully, the walk to Archie’s from the diner wasn’t too far. She turned by Sprat’s Market and there was his house at the end of the block, the porch light on for her.

The sight of it made her smile fondly, but her pulse did not quicken. She sighed, and trudged onwards. That was the crux of her problems these days, well that and being a werewolf. The latter issue she had come to terms with but her personal life seemed to be unraveling.

It’s not that she wanted to be in a cliche love triangle, and she used the word love loosely. She didn’t love Archie or Victor, not the way Mary Margaret loved David, or Eric loved Ariel. Ruby just liked them both, just for very different reasons.

Next door to Archie’s house, Lacey’s old apartment building had single light on the top floor. Ruby paused on the sidewalk outside Archie’s fence, staring up at her best friend’s apartment. Were she and Gold curled up on the couch watching television or where they bickering over a bottle of wine? Either way, a small frisson of jealousy shot up Ruby’s spine.

Things would have been easy if she hadn’t been bitten last October. If she hadn’t turned into a monster, she would have never been drawn to Victor. A brain eating, undead narcissist turned empathetic by his own dealings with the devil.

At the same time...she wasn’t sure if she would have ever given Archie a second glance if he hadn’t stepped up when she needed someone the most…the odd friends with benefits situation that she had initiated last year had gotten complicated as time went by but Archie was safe. He made her feel wanted and normal, and she wasn’t ready to give that up either.

Shaking off her reverie, Ruby got out of the rain. The front door was open, and Pongo barked in greeting as she let herself inside. Archie’s head popped around from the kitchen, glasses fogged up from whatever he was cooking. “Hey!” he exclaimed, grinning guiltily. “I know I said six, but this lasagna is refusing to cooperate.”

Ruby forced a smile. She had lasagna for lunch at the diner. “It’s okay,” she said, unbuttoning her coat. Pongo dropped a ball at her feet, sitting back on his haunches to smile up at her. “Hey, there,” she said, patting his head perfunctorily. Again, it wasn’t that she didn’t like Pongo...she had just never been much of a pet person...and now that she herself turned into something that could eat Pongo…

“Hey pal,” Archie said, clicking his tongue at the Dalmatian. “Come here.”

Pongo wavered but the smell of lasagna won him over and he abandoned his attempts to befriend her. Ruby sighed in relief as both master and dog disappeared into the kitchen and recollected herself. Her phone buzzed just as she slipped it out of her purse.

**Come Over?**

Ruby glanced back at the kitchen, before texting a quick negative and slipping the phone into her coat pocket. She didn’t need any temptation.

“It smells good,” she said as she made her way into the kitchen. Archie smiled at her as he closed the oven door, slipping off some outrageous floral oven mitts. Pongo curled up in front of the oven as Ruby helped herself to the bottle of red airing on the counter.

Archie pushed his glasses up onto the bridge of his nose. “How was the Sunday shift?”

“Busy,” Ruby sighed. “First the Church Rush, then Brunch Bunch, and finally the Christmas Crazies.’ She had worked a double before Granny had mercifully closed the diner on time for once, having run out of most the specials already. “What did you two do today?”

“Went for a W-A-L-K,” Archie spelled out. “Pongo’s been a bit down since Dragon left.”

Dragon had been the Shetland Pony familiar of Mal, a member of Lacey’s coven and the closest thing to a mentor the fledgling witch had. Mal had died at the toll road earlier that summer, and Dragon had slowly wasted away without her. Gold had finally taken him back to the Shetland Isles to Mal’s final resting place despite Lacey and Archie’s best attempts to cheer the familiar up.

Pongo whined at the mention of his old friend, and Archie quickly changed the subject. “How’s Mary Margaret doing? You know they say the first few months of motherhood can be emotionally, physically and mentally draining. Few mothers understand it’s a hormonal imbalance and perfectly normal.”

“Ever the shrink,” Ruby teased. “I thought this was my time?”

“It is!” he hurried to assure her, ears going pink. “How’s, um, Victor doing?”

“Archie…” Ruby said softly. “Come on.”

He winced. “Sorry, old habit. I just passed by the morgue on the walk and I know you two are…”

“Friends,” Ruby told him. “Same as you and me.”

Archie colored. “Oh, so you’re...?”

“No, we aren’t sleeping together.” Ruby grabbed the bottle of wine and headed out to the living room. “Is that what you’re asking?”

Archie followed after her, though he did not move to sit down on the couch. Ruby began to flip through the Netflix series, unable to look at him. This was supposed to be a calm Sunday night dinner, cuddled up on the couch, and then some meaningless sex to cap the evening.

Judging by Archie’s face, meaningless was the key word. “Ruby. You know how I feel about you,” he said softly, taking off his glasses to clean them. Ruby sat motionless on the couch, fingers tightening around the wine stem. “I understand why you feel drawn to Victor, I swear to God, I do. But I think...I think I’m in love with you- Lacey?”

“Lacey?” Ruby repeated. “You think you’re in love with Lacey?”

Archie shook his head, and pointed out the window into the backyard. “Lacey’s out back.”

Ruby twisted in her seat to see the backyard flood light, installed after her own accident last year, had illuminated the fenced in yard, and there, standing like a deer in the headlights, stark naked, was Lacey.

“Jesus!” Ruby whistled. “How much do you think she’s had to drink?”

Archie didn’t respond, too busy pulling a blanket off the back of the couch and hurrying to the back door.

“Careful!” Ruby said, following after him. She grabbed his hand just as he twisted the handle. “You don’t know if it’s her or not,” she said softly, and Archie reluctantly released the doorknob. Ruby inhaled deeply, and though it was still a few weeks out from her time of the month, a flood of smells came rolling back to her.

Archie, Pongo, lasagna, cleaning products, hints of Lacey and Gold, even a faint whiff of Lacey’s familiar but there was also a strange smell. It was fresh and floral, but it smelled more like artificial perfume, strong and cloying.

“Stay here,” Ruby ordered Archie, before slipping outside. Lacey stood at the edges of the light, but she did not move to meet Ruby. She stood stock still, arms at her side as she gazed up at the flood light like a child memorized. “Lace?” Ruby murmured. “You okay?”

Lacey did not respond, but she looked over at her, a bright smile illuminating her face. “Hello,” she said politely. “Do you live here?”

“Lace… it’s me, Ruby.”

“Ruby?” Lacey repeated. “I’m sorry. I don’t...I don’t think I know you?”

“Shit.”

\--

By the time Ruby got Lacey in the house, Archie was beside himself. “Do you think the Old One did this?” he asked, pressing a glass of wine into Lacey’s hands. She took it politely, sniffing curiously at it. However, she quickly placed it back down after a sip of it, making a disgusted face at the acidity of it. “Fuck me,” he breathed. “She’s broken.”

Ruby swatted his shoulder. “She’s not broken. She’s just got amnesia or something.”

“Amnesia doesn’t make you stop liking Malbec,” he said pointedly. “Malbec is Lacey’s favorite.”

“Call Gold,” Ruby said. “He’ll know what to do.”

Archie nodded, already dialing the number. He put the cell on speaker and after a few rings, it went straight to voicemail. “Try it again,” Ruby urged him. He did and after a moment, a familiar voice came through. “Master Hopper,” the demon growled, “you know it is Sunday and you know I am watching my show. This had better be a life or death situation or so help me.”

“Lacey’s here,” Ruby cut in. “Something’s wrong with her.”

“The fuck?” came another voice over the phone.

“Lacey?” Ruby exclaimed, grabbing the phone away from Archie.

“Ruby?” Lacey exclaimed right back. “Did you just say I was over there?”

Ruby looked at the Lacey sitting right in front of them. “What?” the clone asked after a beat, the smile falling off her face. “Is something wrong?”

“Get over here,” Ruby said into the phone. “Both of you. Right now.”

Gold grumbled something and the line went dead.

“Who are you?” Ruby asked the stranger, moving backwards to stand beside Archie. Pongo moved to go to the growingly confused interloper but Archie caught him by the collar. “What do you want?”

“I don’t want anything,” the clone replied, eyes widening. “I was lost.”

The front door banged open. In the next instant, both Lacey and the demon stood in the opposite archway staring in disbelief at the seated woman.

“The fuck is this?” Lacey asked in disbelief.

“Lacey,” DoDo warned her.

“She has my face!” Lacey exclaimed.

At the sight of her friend freaking out, some resemblance of calm returned to Ruby. “Your tits too,” she added, unable to resist. “Carpets match the drapes though.”

Lacey gawked at her. “Are you enjoying this?”

Ruby shrugged. “A little.”

“Can someone explain to me what’s going on?” Archie interrupted. Pongo whined as he looked between the two Lacey’s.

“It’s a doppelgänger,” DoDo sighed, kneeling down in front of ze.

The doppelgänger scooted away from the demon a bit, blue eyes going large in fright. “P-please…” she stuttered.

DoDo cocked his head at her. “Who are you?”

The doppelgänger sniffed, chin wobbling as tears pooled in her eyes. “I’m...I’m…” Her breath caught as she swung her gaze to Lacey. “I’m her.”

“Like hell you are,” Lacey hissed. She lifted a hand, and the doppelgänger grabbed hir throat, gasping for breath.

“Lacey!” Archie yelled, moving over to physically push her arm down. “You’re hurting her!” He ignored his neighbor’s shocked face, and pushed DoDo out of the way to kneel down in front of the thing. “Hey,” he whispered, careful not to touch ze. “Hey, it’s okay. You’re okay.”

The creature didn’t seem so sure about that, casting an anxious look to the trio still standing around her. “I’m scared,” ze told Archie, folding in on itself. Ze pulled the borrowed blanket tighter around hirself, though ze did not seem to feel any chill.

“Let’s get you something to wear,” Archie said. “Something warm?”

“Archie…” Lacey said threateningly.

“She’s showing classic signs of amnesia,” Archie said over her. “Gold, is she dangerous?”

“In this state? No.”

“Then, let’s stop treating her like she killed someone.”

“I’ll go,” Ruby volunteered as Lacey opened her mouth to say something. The doppelgänger allowed Archie to help ze stand, and with a little encouragement agreed to go upstairs with Ruby.

“Who is that woman?” the creature asked as they closed Archie’s bedroom door behind them. “The one that looks like me?”

“Lacey?” Ruby asked, grabbing some clean clothes from her drawer. It was her drawer in the sense that she stayed her on nights she transformed in the locked room at the end of the hall, not anything more than that. “Here you go.”

“Lacey,” the doppelgänger repeated. “That doesn’t sound like my name.”

“I don’t think it is,” Ruby said. “Go change in the bathroom.”

By the time they made it back downstairs, the real Lacey sat on the couch, arms crossed and fuming while DoDo and Archie conferred. Both of them looked to them as they entered the room, Archie moving to greet the doppelgänger.

“Are you hungry?” he asked, leading ze into the kitchen.

“This is stupid!” Lacey exploded. “You just got finished telling us she was probably sent to kill somebody and he’s treating her like a lost puppy!”

“Whoa, wait back up,” Ruby said, throwing her hands up. “Kill somebody?”

DoDo sighed. “Doppelgängers are halfbreeds,” he explained. “They are of human and demon descent, and are known assassins. Someone sent hir here with Lacey’s face and I doubt it was with good intentions.”

Ruby cast a worried look at the doorway, but the doppelgänger, dressed in Ruby's hand-me-downs, smiled in relief as Archie handed hir a large plate of ooey-gooey, now slightly burned lasagna. “Bozo?”

“Or Reul,” Lacey grumbled. “She got pretty ticked off the other day about our relationship.”

Demons and witches were forbidden to be together, mostly because halfbreeds were dangerous things without souls which the Church could not control. Sending a Lacey lookalike to take care of the demon she was dating seemed like a very diabolical thing to do, cunning and poetic. Not Bozo’s style at all.

Archie came back into the living room. “She’s got some blunt force trauma to her head,” he said. “Looks recent. Plus she was naked, so I would guess a possible assault.”

They all looked to DoDo. “A doppelgänger can change their appearance at will,” he said, ”but if they have a concussion, it would explain why they were unable to change back to their true form.”

“I think we should call a doctor,” Archie suggested.

DoDo shook his head. “A doppelgänger may appear human, but halfbreeds have some slight anatomical quirks. Any doctor is going to realize fairly quickly that is not Lacey, nor is it a human.”

Lacey looked over to Ruby. “What about Victor?”

Archie’s face grew stony, but he nodded. “Call him,” he said, and then disappeared back into the kitchen.

\--

“Well, it’s a concussion all right,” Victor told them. “Nasty one. Probably would have killed an actual human, but her skull is fascinating. Much like the rest of her skeleton, it’s elastic.”

The doppelgänger blinked up at him. “Who are you again?” ze asked.

“Doctor Whale,” he said with a wink. “Doctor to the Dead.”

“He owns a morgue,” Lacey said under her breath. “Now, what are we supposed to do with it?”

“She can stay here,” Archie volunteered, not looking at anybody. “Concussions are serious.”

“In most cases,” Victor agreed. “In this little lady’s case, I’m not so sure.”

“It’s not a lady,” Lacey hissed. “It’s a thing wearing my face like a Halloween mask.’

“I don’t want to look like you either!” the doppelgänger shot back. “In fact, I don’t want to even look at your’s for another second!”

“Tough!” Lacey yelled back. “I’m not going anywhere till we get this figured out!”

“Lacey,” DoDo sighed, and both of them turned to him with identical looks of vitriol. The demon took a step back, and Ruby couldn’t help but smile at his expression.

“Okay, ladies, back to your corners,” Ruby said, stepping in between them. “Lacey, you’re freaked. Understandable.”

“Goddamn right it is,” Lacey grumbled under her breath.

“And uh…” Ruby started, casting about for something to call the clone. “What do we call you?”

The doppelgänger deflated. “I don’t remember my name,” ze said sadly. “Nothing sounds right.”

Before she could think better of it, a name popped in Ruby’s mind. “How about Belle?”

Lacey turned a horrified look to her. “No. Absolutely not.”

“Belle,” the doppelgänger said, brightening. “That sounds familiar.”

“It sounds familiar because it’s mine,” Lacey hissed.

“Your name is Lacey,” Belle told her. Ze turned hir doe eyes to Archie. “Can I be Belle?”

“Of course you can,” he said, folding like a napkin. “It suits you.”

Lacey gestured wordlessly at this, mouth open in shock. Her roommate took her by the shoulders. “I think that’s enough for one day,” he said. “Lacey, put a stasis spell on your twin here and we will deal with this in the morning. You can get some rest while I’ll do some research if Master Hopper here agrees to watch our visitor.”

“Fine,” Lacey spit. “Play house with the thing sent here to kill us all.” She made a violent, sharp gesture with her right arm, but nothing apparent happened. “Done,” she said, folding her arms. “If ‘Belle’ here, even so much as steps foot outside the property, she’ll regret it.”

DoDo took Lacey by the shoulders, and gently led her to the hall. “Call me if there’s any development,” he said over his shoulder. “And Master Hopper…”

“Be careful,” Archie finished for him, waving him away. “Yea, I got it.”

Ruby stared in disbelief at him. He sat back down by the doppelgänger, handing hir a cup of tea he had brought from the kitchen. “Here you are,” he said with a encouraging smile.

Victor slided up next to her, putting a cold hand on the small of her back. She shrugged it off. “Not in Archie’s house,” she told him, casting him a dark look. “What’s the matter with you?”

“Well, excuse me,” he said, removing the offending appendage. “You called me over here on a Sunday night.”

“For her,” Ruby said. Archie pulled the blanket over Belle’s lap, and though he did nothing in any way to suggest anything beyond a empathic professional, Ruby was growing rapidly annoyed by this development, which was silly.

“Well, in that case, I’ll be going,” Victor said. “Archie?”

Archie joined them, casting a quick glance over his shoulder to make sure Belle was settled. “Thank you for coming,” he said, shaking Victor’s hand. “Lacey looked like she was going to shish-ka-bob her.”

“Just be careful,” Victor said, watching Belle over Archie’s shoulder. “Her concussion was severe, so don’t let her sleep. She might be out of the woods faster than humans, but keep an eye on her.”

“Of course.”

“No,” Victor said. “I mean, keep an eye on her. She might be harmless now, but if she remembers who she is in the middle of the night, you might not be safe.” He looked over to Ruby. “Can I walk you home?”

She shook her head. “I’ll see you later, Victor.”

Archie stood by her as Victor made his way out, and she took his hand once the front door closed behind him. “Can I stay?” she whispered. “We can take shifts.”

He nodded. “Ruby, about earlier...I…”

She put her finger to his lips. “Let’s handle one thing at a time, okay?”

He nodded and she replaced her finger with her lips.

They’d deal with it in the morning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was incredibly fun! Another kind of halfbreed to join the party, and I can't wait to have some fun with Belle this arc. 
> 
> Some notes worth discussing:
> 
> Ruby: Ruby is in the middle of some huge self discovery milestones. Her feelings for Archie are clouded by her own issues, and Victor, going through something incredibly similar, brings out the dark bits of Ruby. I don't want anyone thinking of her as using Archie intentionally. She just doesn't know what she wants and he is very much aware of that.
> 
> Archie: We know Archie is a carer. He adopted Lacey when she was a mess, taking care of her, cleaning, cooking, etc but it was never anything beyond his innate need to care for others. He took that role with Ruby when she went through her transformation, because to a large extent, Lacey didn't need him anymore. He transferred his tendencies to Ruby (who he had a massive thing for) and now faced with a brand new Lacey, he's confused and drawn to care for her. Curious to your thoughts on this, especially since it is stated quite clearly that this new character did not arrive with the best of intentions.
> 
> Belle: Ah, yes. New character alert! (in chapter 56 of all places!) Belle does have amnesia, and is not faking, and we will learn about it soon. I use it because doppelgangers are nongender and prefer ze/they/them/hir. Ruby uses nonbinary terms out of instinct, Lacey still views the creature as an it, and Archie sees it as a she. 
> 
> See you guys tomorrow! And thank you to everyone who has commented. It means the world to me to see you guys following this to the end. Every comment is read and aprpeciated and reread to encourage me to work on the next chapter so keep up the great work guys! <3


	57. Chapter 57

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More Cruella

_Monday, December 5th, 2016_

The phone would not stop ringing, her computer kept dinging like a demented bell, and throughout it all, there was a halfbreed sitting at Archie’s house wearing her face.

“Jesus, French,” Regina said, stopping short in the doorway. “What happened in here?”

The office was a disaster zone. Copies of the Daily Mirror were piled up on the desk, handwritten notes from concerned citizens and big black circles around the news article someone had run on page six buried next to the obituaries. Lacey’s breakfast was half eaten underneath it all, plus she had spilled coffee down her front twenty minutes ago and still hadn’t gotten a chance to magic it clean.

“You announced the Christmas Parade was canceled,” Lacey hissed. The urge to throw a stapler at the Mayor’s head was tempting, but Regina would dodge it and it would be one more thing for her to clean up. “I’d ask if you were crazy but I already know the answer to that.”

Regina clicked her fingers, and the phone and the computer fell silent. “How do you get any work done with all this noise?” she asked, coming to sit down in the chair opposite the desk. “Mute buttons are hardly difficult to use.”

“I’m not in the mood, Regina,” Lacey snapped. “There’s a doppelgänger at Archie’s house wearing my face, you just declared war on Christmas, and there’s still a demon on the loose determined to wipe you and me off the face of this Earth.”

Regina, perfectly poised as always, shrugged out of her blazer. Her red blouse popped in the monotonous office, and perfectly matched her lipstick. In comparison, Lacey felt frumpy and frazzled, probably exactly what Regina was going for judging by her smirk. “Well, as to the Christmas parade, it was outside our budget.”

“Look,” Lacey said, unplugging the telephone which was still angrily (but silently) ringing. “I don’t give a fig about it, but if I was you, I wouldn’t go outside for until New Year.”

“Oh, they’ll get over it,” Regina chuckled. “They always do. Now, tell me about this doppelgänger. Rumplestitlskin called me about it this morning, but we didn’t get a chance to talk about it.”

“Archie’s adopted it,” Lacey told her. “Won’t hear a thing against it. Ruby named the damned thing Belle, and the last thing I heard, it’s curled up in Archie’s study reading one of his psychiatry books and asking questions about the superego and freudian slips.”

Regina’s face twisted in distaste. “Belle?”

“Don’t ask,” Lacey grumbled under her breath. “Whale came by last night, diagnosed a concussion, and now Archie’s convinced it has post-traumatic amnesia.”

Regina arched a brow at her. “You think she’s faking.”

“Oh, it’s faking alright,” Lacey replied. “No one gets amnesia and starts reading textbooks for fun. Its buttering Archie up for the slaughter.”

Ruby had stayed with Archie all night, but had to work this morning. She had texted Lacey assurances the doppelgänger had been perfectly harmless, even sweet, and had even brought the shrink and the halfbreed lunch on her break. Lacey couldn’t decide which annoyed her more, Archie’s refusal to see reason or Ruby’s devil may care attitude.

As for Rumple.

Her cellphone lit up, the words DoDo still listed as his caller ID. The picture of him wearing Neal’s old hoodie made her smile. Regina sighed, standing abruptly. “You can go on back to the happy little home,” she said snidely. “Let me know if the doppelgänger becomes a problem. There’s more than one way to skin a cat.”

“Lovely as always, Regina,” Lacey called out after her before answering the call. “Hey, there.”

“Sweetheart...you might want to come home.”

Lacey sat up a little straighter. “Why? What is it? What happened?”

“We have company,” he said tersely. In the background, a familiar voice was lamenting the gin selection.

“Tell me,” Lacey gritted, “Cruella De Ville is not in my house.” He didn’t respond. Lacey thumped her forehead with her clenched fist. “Can today get any worse?” she groaned.

“Uh…”

There was a crash and a cackle of maniacal laughter which could only mean the Jumper was there as well.

“Anybody else?” Lacey sighed. “I might just get a room at Granny’s at this rate.”

“Bae’s here,” Rumple told her. “I asked him to come, he has more experience with doppelgängers then I do. He was unable to discourage his roommates from joining him.”  
“I’ll be home in ten.”

There as the sound of another crash and Cruella yelling in the distance.

“Make it five.”

\--

 

By seven that evening, Lacey had a full house.

Cruella had set up in the kitchen, taking over the table there completely with her own mini bar she had brought from the city. She had deigned to share with the others, but only agreed to make gin based drinks for some asinine reasons.

Jefferson had been banished to the bed. He had tried to fix the exploded television, only breaking it further and when he had tried to clean it up, broke the picture frames hanging on the wall. Rumple had ordered him to sit still, and sicced Queenie on him to ensure he stayed there. The cat purred happily in the jumper’s lap, doing a terrible job of it.

Rumple and Neal sat beside each on the couch, barely speaking. Occasionally, an awkward word would come out of one of them, they’d nod solemnly, and then go right back to doing their very best imitations of a statue.

A well timed call to the diner assured Ruby arrived with dinner, which she was handing out currently. She still had her waitress uniform on, which meant Cruella kept making under her breath jokes about the help. It was only a matter of time before Ruby dropped a cup of soup straight into Cruella’s lap.

Archie and the doppelgänger stood against the wall, both looking around the room as if any moment everyone would turn on them. It was a possibility.

Lacey clapped her hands. “Okay,” she said as Ruby perched on the back of the couch. “What are we going to do about this?”

Everyone turned to the this in question, which made both Archie and the doppelgänger frown back at them. “Her name is Belle,” Archie said crossly.

Neal cleared his throat awkwardly. “Most doppelgängers prefer non binary pronouns,” he said. “They, them, ze, hir, and so on.”

“Darling,” Cruella cut in. “That is the most nonsensical thing I ever heard. It’s obviously a woman. That is, I assume it to be a woman, I had doubts myself on the original but everyone assures me Ms. French here is indeed a woman and not an escaped orangutan.”

“Why is she here?” Lacey said to Neal.

He sighed. “She won’t take no for an answer.”

“Charming place,” Cruella continued, swiping a finger over the table and then inspecting it. “Is dust and dirt the new winter trend or have you just been too busy to hire a maid?”

“Cruella,” Rumple warned from the couch. “Behave or leave.”

Cruella put a hand over her heart in affront. “Why, I never,” she exclaimed, returning to her drink. “A host should always make their guests feel welcome.”

“You’re welcome to leave,” Lacey told her.

“Can we get back to Belle?” Ruby said, checking her watch. “I only have a thirty minute break for dinner.”

Archie took a step forward. “I’ve been with Belle all day, and she hasn’t shown any sign of aggression or anything duplicitous. This...this witch hunt needs to come to an end.”

Lacey gaped at him while everyone else in the room shook their heads. Archie colored brightly, swallowing thickly. “I...I think this has gone far enough. She’s harmless and scared.”

“Archie,” Neal said. “I understand, I really do, but doppelgängers are rare. One didn’t just wander to Storybrooke, see Lacey, copy her face and then conveniently get amnesia. Someone sent her, and odds are, it wasn’t for laughs.”

The doppelgänger stayed in the shadows along the wall. Lacey couldn’t even look at it. It was too weird seeing her face downcast, confusion and pain stamped on it so anyone could see. She had spent years hiding her feelings. Years! Then, this thing came along and couldn’t even be bothered.

“Stop sulking,” she snapped to it. She thrust out her gin and tonic, rattling the ice in the tumbler. “Drink?”

It took the glass carefully, as if afraid Lacey might throw it at its face. “Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it,” Lacey grumbled. “Okay, what do we know?’

“I checked some of my contacts in the community,” Neal said, nodding towards Jefferson and Cruella. “They did as well. The last known doppelgänger in America passed away in the late fifties. So, whoever this is, they aren’t local. Jefferson?”

“They are from this time,” Jefferson said. He smiled, delighted to be able to help. “Aged approximately….two hundred and twenty.”

The doppelgänger's eyes widened. “Two hundred and twenty?” it repeated.

“Give or take,” Jefferson said.

“Halfbreed parents,” Cruella added without looking up from her drink. “At least one or two halfbreed grandparents, definitely a family line. This creature did not come cheap.”

“Hey!” the doppelgänger exclaimed, eyes blazing.

Ruby smirked at Lacey, who ignored her. “This is weird,” she said, pinching her nose.

“She doesn’t have your mannerisms,” Rumple noted. “She looks and sounds like you, but she doesn’t move like you.”

“So, probably didn’t study much,” Neal said. “Doppelgängers can imitate photographs, but most prefer to look at the real deal.”

Everyone looked at Lacey who shook her head. “I didn’t attack it, if that’s what you think.”

“But who sent her?” Ruby cut in. “My money’s on Bozo.”

“The clown?” Cruella asked in bewilderment.

“How do you know how Bozo the clown is?” Neal asked her. “Wait, never mind, I don’t want to know.”

“The Old One,” Rumple clarified.

“Oh, him,” Cruella waved a hand. “No, no, doppelgängers don’t come cheap, love. He wouldn’t have the funds if he’s hiding out in the hills.”

“Reul,” Lacey sighed. “The Church would fund something like this in a heartbeat.”

“Or…” Everyone turned to Jefferson. He shrugged. “The Council of Witches has been relatively quiet. A new Guardian appears without any by your leave, a witch dies in mysterious circumstances and the other is running the town with an iron fist. Perhaps they grew suspicious.”

Rumple nodded. “It seems the most likely. The Church would not play their hand so soon. If it was closer to the Winter Solstice, perhaps.”

“The witches sent someone to kill me?” Lacey said in disbelief. “What kind of sisters are those?”

“Not you,” Neal said softly, looking at his father. Rumple nodded, as Lacey’s hands curled into fists.

“Those bitches,” she growled. “How dare they-!”

“Lacey,” Rumple said softly. “We’re blatantly breaking the law, another demon is running amok and Mal was killed in our presence. It’s not out of the realm of possibility that they just wanted to see what was happening.”

“I have a doorbell,” Lacey said, pointing at the object in question. “They could use it instead of sending some-some freak!”

Neal, Jefferson, and Cruella’s heads all snapped up, and even Ruby gave her a disapproving glare. Lacey knew the instant she had said that she had crossed a line. Before she could apology, a voice came from the shadows.

“You’re right.”

Belle put her now empty glass beside Cruella’s hand. “I don’t know what is going on,” she said, looking straight into Lacey’s eyes. “I think if it was me, I would feel the same way. I’ll go.”

“No!” Archie shouted, stopping in surprise when Neal did the same.

“You’re hurt,” he said gently, coming around the couch to take the doppelgänger's hand. “Can you transform into someone else in the room?”

The creature shook its head. “I tried...just now,” it admitted. “I don’t know how.”

Neal nodded. “Then, until we have an idea of who you are and who sent you, I’m sorry but we need to keep an eye on you. I swear you’ll be safe, and when we discover your true identity and mission, we will turn you back over to whoever sent you.” Neal turned to Archie. “Fair?”

“She can stay with me,” the shrink said. Ruby’s face twitched ever so slightly, but did not say anything.

“We’ll stay and help,” Neal sighed. “Now, it was a long drive and I didn’t get much sleep last night. Ruby, I’ll walk you back to Granny’s. I’ll need a room.”

“What about us?” Cruella asked. “Are we supposed to stay in the barn?”

“I can stay here!” Jefferson volunteered, tugging some blankets over his head.

“You’ll do no such thing,” Rumple said crossly. “Cruella, you’ll be more comfortable at Granny’s. Jefferson, there’s a place downstairs that is currently vacant. I think it’ll be to your liking.”

“No!”

Jefferson looked hurt, Cruella and the doppelgänger bewildered, but the rest grew silent.

“Lacey,” Rumple started. “It’s still fully furnished, and it’s just for a few days.”

“No,” Lacey repeated. “That’s Mal’s apartment.”

“I’m not sure it’s best for Jefferson to stay at Granny’s. He might draw some...unwanted attention which is the last thing we want right now.”

“Fine,” Lacey said. “He can stay here. I’ll stay with Ruby.” Lacey did not wait to hear anything else. “Let’s go, Rube,” she said, and without another look back, swept out of her own home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What? You thought it was going to be smooth sailing?


	58. Chapter 58

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quarrel & Kiss in the Rain.

_Tuesday December 6th, 2016_

 

In the grand scheme of things, Lacey had worse Tuesdays.

Checking her phone for the hundredth time, the burning feeling in her gut returned as the log screen showed no new missed calls or texts. Thankfully, her day had been busy at work, but now it was past quitting time.

Lacey actually enjoyed working. There was something satisfying about checking things off her list, getting to talk to people and getting paid for it. Regina hadn’t been around all day, which meant she had the whole place to herself.

That hadn’t helped much either.

Wavering between calling Ruby and giving in and calling Rumple, it was nearly seven and Lacey was still sitting at her desk. Outside, storm clouds rolled in, the temperature plummeting.

“This is stupid,” Lacey grumbled to herself. “It’s my house.”

She stood, grabbing her purse just as her phone buzzed. She instinctively grabbed for it, knocking the keyboard off the desk and nearly breaking her coffee mug in the process.

It wasn’t Rumple.

It was a text from Ariel. Something about bridesmaids dresses for her May wedding and would Lacey please help her decide between pink and emerald green?

She didn’t bother to respond, just slipped her phone in her jacket pocket, wrapped her scarf around her neck and headed out the door.

The Rabbit Hole was calling.

\--

“Lacey.”

“Sup, Leroy,” she sighed, lifting her glass in greeting. “What’s new?”

He grumbled something, lifting a finger to catch Goldie’s attention. “Talked to Astrid today.”

Eager for something to take her mind off the fact that Rumple was apparently not talking to her after their argument yesterday, Lacey nodded for him to go on. “And?”  
“Well,” he said, thanking Goldie as she slid a tall boy in front of him. “Oddest thing.”

Here was the tricky thing about having Leroy as their inside man in the Church. He had no idea demons, witches or ghosts existed which meant from time to time, his information was a muddled mess.

“There’s some buzz in the convent about a visiting dignitary, and I’m no Catholic, sister, but I don’t remember ever hearing about no Coven in the church.”

“A coven?” Lacey repeated. “Are you sure Astrid said coven?”

He looked at her askance, sizing her up. “Covens are witchy things, aren’t they?” he asked. “Last time I checked, the Catholic Church didn’t like witches.”

Lacey backtracked. “That’s what I mean. You sure it wasn't the Cardinal?”

Leroy shook his head. “Astrid said coven. Couldn’t tell me much more than that. You aren’t mixed up with anything...weird, are you?”

Lacey laughed. “Come on, Leroy,” she said, holding up a hand to call Goldie back over. “Next round's on me.”

“That was the deal,” he said, quaffing his tall boy in a impressive show.

“Leroy, I like your style,” she said, and drowned her own glass.

Goldie shot them both disapproving looks. “It’s Tuesday,” she reminded them.

“Thirsty Tuesday!” Leroy told her.

“We won’t be sick at the bar and we’ll tip well,” Lacey assured the bartender. “Another round please.”

Goldie sighed but brought them their drinks before disappearing down to the end of the bar so she could pretend to ignore them. Leroy eyed Lacey’s drink. “How many is that for you?”

“Four? Five?” Lacey said with a shrug. “Does it matter?”

“I know why I’m drinking,” he replied. “Why are you out drinking alone?”

“It’s nothing,” Lacey said, her phone burning a hole in her pocket. “Just felt like a drink.”

Leroy chuckled. “Oh, yea, sure, you’ve been shacked up with that Gold fellow since this summer, haven’t been here but twice in four months, and now you’re sitting at the bar doing your best impersonation of me. Spill.”

“People fight,” Lacey said, not looking at him. “It was bound to happen sooner or later.”

“You’re sulking,” he told her. “Avoiding going home because you don’t want to deal with it.”

“I am no sulking!” Lacey exclaimed. “We had a disagreement and I didn’t handle it very well.”

“So?”

Lacey looked at him. “So? So, he hasn’t said a word to me since last night and I know him. He’s probably just waiting for me to apologize, and that’s not happening.”

“Apologize for what?”

Lacey sighed. “For storming out and spending the night at Ruby’s.”

Leroy whistled. “You pulled that card? Wow, sister, no wonder you’re drinking alone. I’d be afraid to go back to my place too.”

“He just...didn’t understand,” Lacey said, more to herself than Leroy. “He’s acting like my feelings aren’t important...or that they’re wrong.”

“What, he don’t love you back?”

At this, Lacey did twist to face him. “Who said anything about love?” she asked.

The bar grew busier, a few people coming in out of the rain or escaping their houses for a little while. The bar stayed empty as Lacey extended just a little discouragement magic to keep their conversation private.

“Come on, sister,” Leroy said with a shake of his head. “I’ve known you for years. I was surprised as anyone when I heard about you and Gold but grief does weird things to people. Finally knocked down that wall of yours.”

“I don’t have a wall,” Lacey corrected him. “Things between me and Gold were complicated.”

“And now he lives with you, and you two do everything together,” Leroy said. “You’re sitting here, drinking with a known bachelor instead of going home and fixing things because you’re scared. You don’t know how to be in love. There’s no shame in that.”

“Who the hell died and made you Dr. Phil?”

He raised his glass to clink against hers. “Love makes you do crazy things. I should know,” he said, before finishing his drink. “I think one more ought to do it,” he said, lifting a finger to let Goldie know. The blonde bartender looked pointedly at the clock but she moved to get their beers.

“What if he’s not there?” Lacey asked quietly. “What do I do then?”

Leroy patted her on the back. “Then, you go find him. Any man worth his salt will take you as you are and sister, you’re one in a million.”

Lacey shook her head, trying to hide the tears that had started to pool in them. Leroy had no idea what was really going on, to him this was just a relationship issue. He didn’t know there was a creature wearing her face, who was up to God knew what, a best friend who hadn’t said as much but believed Lacey was overreacting, three halfbreeds she had offended, and a neighbor who had gone white knight at the worst possible time.

Or that the one person who always had her back had suddenly changed sides on her without any warning.

They spent the next hour playing darts before Leroy gently urged her to head home. Lacey’s stomach was in knots the entire walk, and when she reached Sprat’s, she couldn’t bring herself to walk down her street. She turned the other way and headed to the outskirts of town where Rumple and she had once collected ingredients while the faeries played Kansas in the distance. It was a happy memory, and she clutched it at it, warding away the worry she had carried in her chest all day.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

He stood in the path in front of her in demon form, arms crossed as his yellow eyes glared at her in the dim mist. He had no jacket on, nor hood, so his curls were already sagging, as if he couldn’t even bother to magic away the rain.

“Walking.”

“Walking?” he repeated incredulously. “It’s nearly midnight! Do you want to get yourself killed?”

“I’m fine!” Lacey shouted back as she raised her right hand to the sky. A bolt of lightning shot down from the heavens, illuminating them for a moment. Her hair lifted about her face, as the elemental electricity shot through her, magic surging to meet it. “I can take care of myself.”

He narrowed his eyes at her. “A parlor trick,” he sneered. “For children. Fitting I suppose, judging how you’re acting like one.”

“Me?” Lacey said, completely forgetting she had in fact behaved rashly. “I’m the only rational one left out of all of you! Some doppelgänger stole my face and you all want to treat it like a science experiment!”

“No one is treating this lightly,” he told her. “Bae spent the day with them. The doppelgänger is struggling to remember basic things about themselves, and believe me, no one is that good of an actor.”

Lacey scoffed. “It’s not fooling me.”

There was the roll of thunder in the distance and the trees swayed in the wind up on the hill above them. Lacey barely noticed, she only had eyes for the demon in front of her. Everything hurt. Her chest felt like someone had ripped it open and robbed her blind, leaving her breathless and a little lightheaded. She was so angry her vision was blurring and she hadn’t bothered throwing up another protection spell after her little display so she was starting to shiver as well.

“You’re being impossible!” he growled in frustration. “Why do you insist on believing everyone is out to get you?”

“Because they are!” she shouted back. “You know that! We are walking targets and it’s only a matter of time before one of us gets hurt or killed and I don’t know what I’d do without you!”

There was a ringing silence. A fog horn went off down at the docks, dulled by the storm’s rumble. They stood only a few feet apart, but it felt like miles. Her fingers  
itched to reach out to touch him, to shake him until he saw sense but she felt paralyzed.

“Me?” he said roughly. “You’re worried about me?”

Lacey nodded. She was glad it was raining, because her face was already speckled with water and she couldn’t tell if she was crying or not. “Mal’s dead because of me. I can pretend all I like that’s not the case, but it is. The winter solstice is in two weeks, and I’ve lost enough people already. I can’t lose you too.”

“I have lived four centuries,” he said softly, stepping closer to her. He slipped his hand on her cheek, and his thumb brushed over her cheekbone as if wiping away her fears. “If I die protecting you, it will have been the best thing I have ever done in this excuse of a life.”

“Rumple...”

“But I am selfish,” he said over her. “I have no intention of leaving you behind for the next world. You are stuck with me.”

Lacey’s bottom lip quivered, and she grabbed his hand on her cheek and collapsed into him. “I’m sorry,” she whispered into his chest. “Last night, I just couldn’t think straight with it standing there with my face and you all… you all acting like she was me.”

He kissed the top of her head as his arms went around her. “No doubt the reason they picked you as the doppelgänger's identity. You have a knack for surrounding yourself with people who would die for you.”

Lacey chuckled weakly. “I doubt Cruella is doing to die for me any time soon.”

He laughed too. “No, but she is fond of Neal, maybe we can convince her to at least help a little.”

They stayed there for a moment, becoming progressively more soaked as the storm increased.

“Should we go?” he asked, tracing circles over her back through her jacket. “You know what they say about people who don’t come in out of the rain?”

“They’re crazy?” Lacey guessed.

“Something like that,” he said, gazing back at her. She tilted her head to kiss him and his arms tightened as he deepened the kiss. It was slick from the rain, his lips sliding over hers as his teeth worried her bottom lip. She hummed in appreciation, deepening the kiss to taste him. Her hips pressed against him and once again, she thanked whoever designed his leather pants.

“Come home?” he asked her when they finally broke apart. “Or if you still need time, I can walk you to Ruby’s.”

Lacey shook her head, taking his hand in hers. “Let’s go home.”

On a nearby knoll, a group of women watched all this unfold in silence. They were untouched by the rain, as if they were in a different world altogether.

“See?” Reul said, turning to her companions. “Disgusting.”

An older woman with caramel colored hair nodded in agreement. She smelled faintly of the sea, and her hair had the effortless beach look that so many woman tried to recreate. “It’s worse than we thought.”

Another woman, with blonde hair faintly laced with silver, looked troubled. “Has there ever been a case of a witch falling in love with a demon?”

“No,” the third member of their group said, this one much younger. Her eyes were milky white and unseeing. “You were right to call the Supreme Coven, Reul Ghorm.”

“The Dark One is bad enough but I’ve heard rumors that the Old One is on the loose here as well?” the first woman asked her. “How is that?”

The silver blonde scoffed. “He’s the Old One, Ursula. The first demon to walk the earth does as he pleases. I’m surprised to find this town still standing between the two of them.”

“The Old One has been here a year,” the blind witch replied. “Hardly enough time to grow strong enough to risk breaking the treaties. The Winter Solstice approaches. He will not wait much longer.”

The one named Ursula gazed after where the two lovers had disappeared. “The Dark One is obviously using our young witch. She is not trained in our ways. We must put an end to this.”

“Bellamy is up to the task,” the older blonde said. “Have they checked in yet?”

“No, Ingrid,” the blind witch said. “They sent a note that they had arrived and taken a face but nothing beyond that. The one we saw just now was the real Belle French.”

“Belle?” Reul asked. “She goes by Lacey.”

“Her name is Belle Larissa French,” the younger witch told her. ”It was given to her by her mother Colette Frances O’Connor and is registered in our history.”  
Reul smiled grimly back at the unseeing witch. “My name was once written there too,” she reminded her. “Until you all struck it out.”

“You made your choice,” Ingrid replied icily. “You were allowed to live, be happy for that.”

“The hour is late,” Ursula said. She faced towards the sea and inhaled deeply. “Tomorrow, we will look into Bellamy’s silence. Elle, you were the one who assured us a halfbreed could be trusted, so you shall deal with it.”

“Happily,” she purred. “Now, to the convent?”

“You’re...you’re staying at the covenant?” Reul said uncertainly. “I had assumed…”

“Where else would be staying?” Ursula asked. “The Inn? I think not.”

“Of course,” Reul said. “I’ll show you the way”

With a twist of her hand, the four of them disappeared and from the forest, a sad, lonely song began to play as the faeries strove to drive away the coming storm.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The third part of the prompt was Reul sees and is not too happy about it. I didn't want to spoil it as I liked the surprise of the quartet of them on the hill. 
> 
> Sorry for this being late, real life got real last night which actually partly inspired this chapter. Relationships are hard, and as well know, the canon version of Rumbelle has been put through a lot of arguments and fights. This was more two people being scared. She of losing him, and he of losing her. Stakes are very high here, and there is a lot of reasons these two are starcrossed lovers (like poor Leroy and Astrid) and I'm excited the Supreme Coven is here now. (Hi Ursula, Ingrid and Blind Witch- who I named Elle cause I can).
> 
> Also, super proud of our doppelganger's identify. Any guesses who Bellamy is in canon?


	59. Chapter 59

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remembering a starry night

_Wednesday December 7th, 2016_

Neal’s back hurt.

“Sorry about this,” Archie said, fluffing another pillow for him. “Ever since Ruby….well you know...I had to update the spare guest room into a werewolf proof room, and well, Belle’s in the main gues troom…”

“It’s fine, Archie,” Neal told him from he stood awkwardly in the kitchen doorway. “Thanks for letting me stay.”

Honestly, there wasn’t a lot of options and the good doctor knew it. Cruella had taken the suite at Granny’s, Lacey had crashed at Ruby’s, and it had been safer to give Jefferson the last room at Granny’s which left Neal two options.

The doctor’s couch or stay at his dad’s old house with newlyweds and a newborn.

Neal had opted for the couch, even if it did kill his back.

Belle sat at the kitchen table sipping tea and staring out the window. It was odd seeing Lacey so still and pensive. The doppelgänger noticed his gaze and turned to look at him quizzically. “What?” they asked with a defensive glare.

He shook his head. “Nothing.”

Archie noticed this byplay and hurried over. “Belle, are you sure I can’t get you something to eat?”

They smiled. “No, thank you, Archie. I’m fine, really.”

“Hey Archie,” Neal said casually. “How about I give you a hand in the kitchen?”

The dishes were piled up in the sink from Archie’s over the top breakfast buffet. Neal had eaten five pancakes, six pieces of bacon, three eggs and two sausage links before Archie had deposited a tray of cinnamon rolls in front of him and Belle with a proud smile.

Belle had eaten two pieces of cantaloupe and nibbled on a waffle.

Pongo lifted his head when they entered, tail thumping in greeting. He stood guard by the fridge, waiting for someone to open it and give him some more leftovers no doubt. “Archie,” Neal said as the doctor moved to the sink. “What’s going on here?”

Archie’s shoulders tensed but he did not look around. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“I’m no psychiatrist but if I had to wager a guess, I’d stay your transferring some feelings onto Belle out there. She’s not Lacey.”

“I know that,” Archie snapped, rolling up his sleeves. His glasses gleamed in the late morning sunlight, his hair burning bright orange. “She’s lost and afraid, and you all are treating her like a bomb waiting to go off any second. That’s no way to treat someone with amnesia. We should be fostering a supportive space for her.”

Archie continued to scrub at the same pot though it was already spotless. Neal gently took it from him and grabbed a dish towel. “I agree,” Neal told him quietly. “We all did which is why she is here instead of a prisoner in the Dark Realm.”

“Lacey didn’t think so,” Archie said tightly.

“Belle’s wearing Lacey’s face,” Neal said. “You know Lacey. Think about it.”

Archie paused in his washing. Lacey was a hell of a woman, but Neal had seen her insecurities the first time he had met her. She hid them well behind her mask of sarcasm and bluntness but her discovery of her heritage had rocked her already fragile identity. Over time, she had learned to embrace it with the help of the people in her life but Neal couldn’t be sure he would handle a doppelgänger any differently in her shoes.

“Is this about Ruby?” Neal prodded gently.

Archie just handed him another pot. They continued to wash and dry in silence. In the other room, Belle switched on the television. The doppelganger seemed at a loss at what to do with themselves.

“Hey,” Neal said, breaking the silence. “Let’s take Belle out on a walk. See if we can jog any memories.”

At the word walk, Pongo jumped to his feet and began to bark happily. Archie shot Neal a look. “Well, now we have to take them both out,” he sighed. “I’ll go get the leash.”

\--

Outside in the fresh air, Belle blossomed. Neal had rarely seen such a look of pure delight on Lacey’s face, but Belle seemed entranced with the quaint town. A few people said hello to her and Archie, and the doctor was quick to reply for the both of them.

Pongo was just as happy. Archie handed Belle the leash after a while, and the two of them went on ahead, enjoying the cold sunshine. Neal texted Lacey that Belle was out and to lay low for a bit. Her answering text had some interesting suggestions on where he could stick his phone but she agreed to stay in for lunch.

Halfway through their walk, Jefferson joined them with no warning. One minute they were passing Papa Gepetto’s Pizzeria and the next Jefferson was walking beside them, top hat jauntily on his head as he bobbed up and down beside Neal.

Archie did a double take, but did not say anything. The good doctor was getting used to the world outside of his own. Up ahead, Belle took a left away from the town proper, Pongo straining at his leash as he sniffed the ground. The three men hurried to join them, only catching up when Pongo stopped to mark a fire hydrant.

Belle stood next to him, frowning at a street sign. “I know this place,” they said softly.

They were in a neighborhood area, unremarkable in the fact that it was not near any parks, bodies of water or magical zones. In fact, the only thing it was close to was the old Victorian where the Nolans lived.

“Let’s go this way,” Jefferson suggested, taking Belle’s arm. The doppelgänger flinched. They were not comfortable with touch. They tolerated it but there was always an underlying tension whenever someone so much as grazed them.

Within five minutes, their group arrived at the Nolan’s. After Neal’s father had moved out, Rumplestitlskin had asked David to take care of it, letting him and his family live there rent free. His father had a soft spot for the sheriff, he seemed to find David genuinely interesting for a mortal.

“I know this place,” Belle said. The doppelgänger tried to stop on the sidewalk outside the small fence, but Jefferson propelled them forward and up the stairs. Archie went along happily, barking excitedly.

Archie checked his watch. “Shit, it’s nap time! Pongo!” he hissed, trying to quiet his dog. “Pongo, shush boy!”

From inside the house, a loud wail went up. Jefferson didn’t even pause. One minute he was on one side of the front door, and the next, he was opening it up from the inside.

“Mary Margaret is going to kill us,” Archie moaned but Belle entered the house as if on a mission. They let Pongo’s leash slip out of their hands, and the Dalmatian bounced around the house, tail wagging madly as he sniffed around the living room.

“Mary Margaret?” Neal called out in greeting as he closed the front door behind them.

“Neal?” She appeared at the top of the stairs, baby in one hand and a phone in the other. “Goddamn it, you scared me half to death!”

“Sorry,” Archie apologized as he followed Belle with his eyes. “We were in the neighborhood.”

“So you broke in?” Mary Margaret exclaimed, coming down the stairs with the still wailing child in her arms. “That damn dog of yours woke Emma.” Pongo bounded up to her, licking at her hands and whining happily to see an old friend. Mary Margaret softened slightly.

“He didn’t mean it, did you, buddy?” Archie said, reaching down to pat his dog’s head.

Belle entered the room, and stopped dead at the sight of Mary Margaret and the baby. “Lacey!” Mary Margaret said in relief. “I didn’t know you were here too. Hold Emma for me for a minute, I have to pee like you wouldn’t believe.”

“Here!” Neal said, grabbing the child before Mary Margaret could handle it off to the doppelgänger. The child started to scream louder as it was ripped away from its mother. “Go, go,” he urged her. “I can handle a baby for a minute at least.”

Mary Margaret shook her head. “Thanks, Neal. You know, Lacey, you'll have to hold her eventually,” she told Belle as she passed by.

“Shush, shush,” Neal crooned down at the red faced infant. He wasn’t very experienced with children. He liked them fine but in all his years, this was one of the first times he could remember holding one. Emma slowly started to quiet as he rocked her. He murmured encouraging nonsense down at her before her eyes slowly slid shut.

Jefferson appeared at his side, peering down at the baby in his arms. “Oh, so that’s Emma,” he said, cocking his head in interest. “She’s a lot more wrinkled than how I pictured her.”

“She’s a baby,” Archie told him.

“Oh, now she is,” Jefferson said, looking at Neal with a weird half smile. “Won’t always be though.”

“That’s her.” Belle had not moved, eyes glued on Emma.

“Belle?” Archie asked, moving over to her. “What’s the matter?”

“I remember,” Belle said softly. “I know this place. I know that woman. I know that child…”

Neal instinctively twisted his upper body away, putting himself between Belle and Emma. Pongo whined in the silence.

“I wasn’t sent here for the Dark One or the witch,” Belle said, staring down at their hands. “I was sent here for the baby.”

\--

_December 3rd, 2016_

The Supreme Coven consisted of three witches who served for life.

A Guardian to protect the mortal realm from those who would destroy it. Their kind was rarer and rarer these days. Ingrid Frostulfsson had served on the Supreme Coven since the days Vikings had roamed the waters. She was calm and fair though stoic and taciturn by nature had given her the nickname Ice Queen.

There was always a Seer to guide the council through times of great confusion. Fate often had a cruel sense of humor and Elle Caulwell, the most powerful Seer that the world had seen in centuries, was blind as well as magically stunted. Her potions and spells fizzled and failed, but there was denying the clarity of her foresight. She was the youngest on the council, a mere hundred years old.

Then, there was the Elder. Ursula Costa had always been on the Coven. She claimed to be the first witch to ever walk this world, born from the foam where gods had died. No one dared question this. Her temper was as mercurial as the sea and her power was respected by even the eldest of demons and the most senior members of the Church. She was ageless.

On this starry night, they were called together by the most unlikely of people.

“Reul Ghorm,” Ingrid said. “This is surprising.”

The witch turned nun seemed much smaller in the chambers of high stones. She was not as old as Ingrid Frostulfsson but she had been a woman grown by the time the Inquisition had spread across Europe. “Supreme Coven,” Reul said in respect. “Thank you for meeting with me.”

“We agreed to a meeting with a renegade sister, not the Church,” Ursula reminded her. “Watch how you proceed.”

Elle leaned forward in interest. “She’s here for help,” she said. “She cannot contain the storm brewing.”

Reul nodded. “You are aware of the Old One and the Dark One’s presence in this realm?”

“We know all about Storybrooke,” Ingrid said cooly. “A untrained witch summoned forth two demons while the town witch did not nothing, too busy with her own trivial interests. When the Church intervened, we thought it best to let it work itself out.”

“She means we had hoped you would all kill each other for us,” Ursula said with a cruel smile. “Maleficent was a respected seer and a powerful witch in her own right. We were sorry to hear she was a casualty of this nonsense.”

“Maleficent died protecting the junior witch and her demon lover,” Reul spat. “Regina Mills has gotten mixed up in this and refuses to hear reason. Halfbreeds visit our town, a werewolf roams freely, and mortals are learning of us all.”

“Mortals?”

Elle chimed in. “Three in all,” she murmured. “One was a child when she learned of us, she has proven she can be trusted. The second is a man of the mind, he is too cowardly to tell of us. The third is married to the first, and is the demon’s pet. He cannot be trusted. There was a fourth, but she was bitten for her troubles. She is cursed to change into a beast every month until her miserable life is ended.”

“We must rid the world of the demons,” Reul said in an attempt to bring the conversation to where she intended. “The junior witch must pay for her transgressions. The Laws of the Three demand it.”

“You dare quote the Laws of the Three?” Ursula laughed. “You, a traitor?”

Reul did not flinch. “I am the liaison to the Supreme Coven for the Church, if you will remember, I am warranted respect due to my title.”

“Enough,” Ingrid said, waving a hand. “I know the Old One and the Dark One and their history. Let them kill each other.”

“But the town-!”

“Is the Church’s concern,” Ingrid said over her. “You protect the mortals. We protect our sisters. We will deal with the junior witch’s transgressions.”

“That’s not all…” Elle said, standing slowly. “There is something else our once sister would tell us.”

If Reul was surprised, she did not show it. “You mentioned the two who know of our ways. Those are the Nolans. They recently had a daughter.”

“A child?” Elle breathed. “Ah, yes. I see her now.”

“I have reason to suspect…” Reul paused, “that the child is more than she seems.” From the shadows, a figure stepped out into the light. Reul raised a hand, but there was no magic here in this chamber. Wards as old as time prevented it. The stranger had angular features. Blonde hair was cut short around their face, hazel eyes that looked green one second and brown the next regarded Reul with disdain.

“The Tinker has arrived,” Elle said in greeting.

“We had thought to sent Bellamy here to take care of the junior witch but you were right to come.”

“A mere mortal’s child?” Ursula scoffed. “The Tinker’s services do not come cheap. You would waste them on a babe?”  
“Not any babe,” Elle said softly. “Goddaugher to a demon and a witch, beloved by a werewolf, and born to a witch’s stepdaughter. This child is protected in more ways than one.”

“True Love’s Get?” Ingrid asked. “There has not been a child born of vera amoris since the middle ages.”

“Until now,” Elle said. “Tell me, Bellamy, do you know what True Love’s Get is?”

The Tinker shook their head. Reul stood all but forgotten.

“It is a product of when two souls merge together so completely that there is no line between them. Think of it as a purer version of when a demon reaps a soul. However, mortals cannot use magic, and thus, the power is passed on through them.”

“A witch born of mortals,” Elle murmured. “With magic so undiluted, if properly trained, could topple the balance. I did not see her...even know she is only a faint ripple in time. There is too much clouding her future.”

“Then, she’s dangerous,” Ursula decided. “Reul, I’m surprised. You could have taken her for the Church.”

The nun shook her head. “I am a servant of the Laws of Three,” she told them. “True Love’s Get means she is a witch, and as she has not been baptized, she is out of our jurisdiction. There is too much already at stake in Storybrooke for a war between our groups. It is only a matter of time until the demons realize what she is.”

“Elle,” Ingrid said thoughtfully. “You say the child’s future is unclear?”

The Seer nodded. “She could be a great asset, or a great liability,” she murmured. “Either way, she needs to be removed from Storybrooke. We can raise her here in our ways as a normal sister, and if she grows dangerous or unmanageable, we can strike her down before she reaches her true potential.”

“Agreed,” Ursula said. “Tinker, you are to bring us this child.”

“You said her godmother is a witch?” Bellamy asked.

In the air above them, Lacey’s face appeared. Her bright blues eyes were crinkled in a laugh, her hair blowing gently in an unseen wind. “Lacey French,” Ingrid told her. “You are to leave her to us. Once the child is removed, we will handle the junior witch and her demon.”

The androgynous features of the tinker shifted until the same woman stood before them, a cold smile on her lips. “Understood,” she said in Lacey’s voice.”What’s is the child’s name?”

“Emma.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I'm really fond of how this chapter came out. As most of you know, a prompt verse means I have no idea what I'm going to write until I sit down and write it. So, while I had no initial intentions on making Emma "the savior", as I was writing this it just went in that direction and I loved the idea.
> 
> Hope you all enjoyed Neal holding Emma. ;) If you're wondering, yes Jefferson knows who Emma is to Neal. As a jumper he's seen all the futures as you remember....but that's twenty years off. Just been looking forward to this little moment ever since Mary Margaret told Neal she was pregnant in the city. 
> 
> So, a lot of guesses for Zelena. I will admit, I toyed with her being in the story but she and Hook are very volatile characters and I'm not sure they'd fit in the storyline. However, new hints this chapter! What do you guys think now?
> 
> So, no Rumple and Lacey in this one but they'll be back next chapter!


	60. Chapter 60

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lacey is DoDo’s House Guest in the other realm

_Thursday December 8th, 2016_

Lacey gripped Rumple’s sleeve. “We have to get out of here,” she told him. Her voice trembled and her eyes were wide. “Right now.”

He gently detangled her hand from his jacket. “You were the one who suggested it.”

Behind them, David and Mary Margaret sat at one end of her couch, Emma asleep in David’s arms. Both parents were half asleep even though it was barely dark outside. A crib was shoved in the corner by the bed and two suitcases were stuffed under the kitchen table. The small studio apartment barely fit two comfortably and at the moment, there were five of them plus one very ticked off cat.

“Queenie,” Lacey groaned as the cat yowled in protest from where she was hiding under the bed. “Please stop. I know you’re annoyed. What do you want me to do?”

David stirred slightly. “What’s that, Lacey?”

“Go back to sleep, David,” Lacey said and the man nodded before yawning. He drifted back off without a response. “This isn’t going to work,” Lacey groaned. There was some Chinese takeout from Shang’s on the counter, two empty bottles of wine, and a trash can full of dirty diapers.

“This is the safest place for them,” Rumple reminded her.

That was true. Yesterday had been a whirlwind. For whatever reason, Neal had taken Archie, Jefferson and the doppelgänger to Rumple’s old home only to jog the amnesiac memory of ‘Belle’ into remembering their mission.

It hadn’t been what Lacey feared. They were not there to kill her or Rumple. No, the doppelgänger had been sent to collect Emma.

What had followed this revelation had been a full house at the old Victorian. Even Cruella had come though she had added nothing more helpful than a few mixed drinks. Archie had stayed dead silent on the couch, unable to meet anyone’s eyes including Ruby’s.

The doppelgänger's name was Bellamy, which at least explained why Belle had sounded so familiar to them. The Tinker, as they sometimes went by, was a story told by mothers in Europe, Neal told them all. A creature that would come and take the children in the night, leaving a changeling in their place.

Bellamy didn’t say much. Being bound and gagged probably had something to do with that, but Mary Margaret refused to let the halfbreed stay in her house unless it was contained and the halfbreed had reluctantly agreed to it. There wasn't much more they could do. Their memory was still fragmented, with no idea how they had been attacked or why and they were in a house full of very angry magical beings.

So, currently, Neal and Jefferson were at the Victorian with Bellamy. They had tried to send Archie home but he refused. He seemed to take it as a personal affront he had championed a possible kidnapper, and would just mumble it was his duty whenever someone tried to convince him to leave. Bellamy had been locked in a room upstairs until they could figure out the next plan.

Lacey pinched the bridge of her nose, trying to stave off a headache. “I still don’t understand why they admitted it,” Lacey sighed. “They were right there.”

“Four to one,” Rumple said with a shrug. “As Archie reminded us, amnesia affects everyone differently. It’s entirely possible they were as surprised by their true mission as the rest of us.”

“True Love’s Get?” Lacey mumbled over to him. “That sounds like something out of a romance novel.”

“It’s name has been deluded over the millennia,” he admitted. “Vera Amoris has only been documented a number of times…”

“The course of true love never did run smooth,” Lacey quoted at him with a wink. “God, it explains so much about the two of them.”

Rumple put his arm around her waist, drawing her closer to his side. They were leaned against the kitchen counter, fishing shrimp out of the to go boxes. “Let’s get away for a bit,” he suggested. “Just you and me.”

Lacey smiled at him. “Now?”

He nodded. “Next week is the winter solstice. Neal’s watching the Tinker, Regina assured me she would handle Reul and Leroy’s watching the covenant. If anything happens, we can be back here before anyone misses us. Let Mary Margaret and David have the apartment, it’s warded to an inch of impenetrable and Queenie can keep an eye on them. Plus, Ruby and Archie can check on them.”

It was tempting.

“Where would we go?” Lacey asked, leaning her head to lay against his.

“Bali?”

Lacey laughed. “I can’t really imagine you in Bali.”

He scoffed. “I love Bali.”

Lacey gave a small shrug. “What if...we went somewhere a little more private?”

“Like?”

Lacey bit her lip. “What about your place?”

\--

They left a note.

Queenie was less than pleased but Lacey had left her a whole thing of catnip and two cans of tuna. Lacey texted Neal they were going to the other realm for a bit, knowing that time worked so differently it was possible they would be back before anyone missed them.

“This place is ridiculous,” Lacey laughed as they settled into the grand hall. A fire roared to life in the massive hearth, but the room was already warm enough as it was. The Dark Realm did not have seasons, just a constant heat that bespoke of all the tales of hell. “Why do you even need so much space?”

“We all can’t live in studio apartments,” he told her.

They were sharing a large wingback chair by the fire, Lacey in his lap and a cup of tea in her hands. “It echoes,” she told him. “It’s drafty.”

“It’s a castle,” he sighed into her. “It’s meant for show.”

“No wonder you prefer my place,” she said, snuggling into him. “I feel like I’m going to lose you here.”

“Just click your heels three times and say there’s no place like home.”

She laughed. “Oh, now your Oz?”

“Who said anything about me?” he said, pressing a kiss to her neck. “You’re the one in a land beyond her own.”

“Just call me Dorothy,” she murmured in appreciation of the work he was doing with his mouth.

“Mmm, Dorothy…”

She elbowed him, causing him to chuckle. Sending her tea to float in midair, Lacey turned to straddle him to return his kisses in kind. She traced his scales with her tongue, the slightly odd texture giving her goosebumps of giddy anticipation.

Her fingers curled into his hair. “Did I ever tell you about the sex dream I used to have about you?” she murmured into his ear. He tensed slightly and Lacey smiled to herself. “Oh, yea,” she sighed, scooting her legs apart so her sex pressed firmly against his hips. “They were wild.”

His hands moved down to her jeans, cradling her ass in his hands as he gently encouraged her to rock. Lacey’s face was still pressed into his neck, so she happily obliged.

“At first, they were just really vague,” she whispered. “Flashes of feeling and sensations and want so powerful I would wake up confused and disoriented, needing something without understanding what.’

‘Then, I started to see your face, feel you like you were actually there with me, and I would wake up dripping, body aching with need and so desperate I had to find release on my own fingers or I would break into pieces. I’ve wanted you for longer than I could even say and now you’re here and you’re mine.”

“Lacey,” he groaned into her hair. “If you’re trying to drive me insane, you’re doing a hell of a job.”

She leaned back, pleased to feel his heartbeat pounding as fast as her own. “There’s no one here to interrupt us,” she told him, putting her hands on his shoulders. She rocked her hips against him, so there was no doubting her intention. “I’ve wanted this for a really long time and I’m done waiting.”

His eyes searched her face. “You’re sure?”

She nodded. “I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, gang, I have two more prompts left aaaaannd we still have a few chapters to go. I want to turn it over to you dedicated readers. I'm needing thirteen more prompts (oooh spooky!) and would love for you guys to prompt some stories you still want answered. Some suggestions of course would be Colette's history, Leroy & Astrid, Reul's backstory, etc. Those are the mysteries I know that are still unanswered but it's totally up to you guys. 
> 
> Some of the best chapters have been ones with prompts I twisted. The chapter about a stray cat adopting DoDo was the prompt that inspired me to make Lacey a witch and you guys know what happened after that. This story has been such a joy thanks to you all.
> 
> Next Chapter fills one of the oldest prompts I have yet to fill. It came over in the very first days of the House Guest prompts but I had to save it until the right time. It's now the right time. I will leave it below for you as a teaser because I love you all very, very much.
> 
> "Lacey is still terribly horny and well dodo's appetizing leather-clad ass is right there at hand"   
> Coming Soon!  
> (hahaha I think I'm funny, and you guys are on chapter 60 so you must agree)


	61. Chapter 61

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You all know what this is.
> 
> Reminder this NSFW so don't say I didn't tell you so.

Lacey had lost her virginity the night she had turned twenty.

It had been two days after Christmas, four days before New Year’s, six years since she had lost her mother, and three years since she had moved out on her own. All of that was important, because each and every one of those reasons were why she ended up going home with a stranger.

She had stopped at the Yellow Brick Roadhouse, a hole in the wall bar between Storybrooke and Boston. Her quick bite to eat had been complicated when Jack Gaston had sat down next to her at the bar, a vision in a red henley. 

He had bought her a shot. So, Lacey let him stay and tried to ignore his misogynistic little comments and his beer breath. He was a neanderthal, nothing she couldn’t handle. When he started making comments about going back to his place, Lacey finally had enough.

So, she said no.

She said with a smile. She said it in the way men usually understood.

Gaston hadn’t. His large hand clasped around her wrist on the bar, his smile still plastered on his face but all the charm was gone. Before Lacey could even respond, the bartender had swooped in like an avenging angel. 

Within minutes, Gaston had been ejected from the bar, Lacey had an ice pack on her wrist and the bartender spent the rest of the evening regaling Lacey with travel stories, showing her far off places and telling Lacey all about an upcoming trip to Africa. 

Dorothy Gale was the first woman Lacey ever wanted to kiss. 

So, she did.

Repeatedly. All weekend. 

It wasn’t until Monday, when Lacey had to return to school that they said their goodbyes. Dorothy had left for her trip a few days later, and while she still followed her first lover on social media, and they still exchanged happy birthdays and how are yous, it had been a life changing experience in more ways than one.

Her first time had been magnificent, fraught with fate. 

Her second time had followed soon afterwards, this time with a man. Her third, fourth, and fifth had been in the same week, sometimes with a man, sometimes with a woman and in one case with both and while all were enjoyable in their own ways nothing ever came quite as close as that first magical weekend. 

Lacey had not loved Dorothy Gale, but she had liked her. She had trusted her. There had been a connection there. Lacey was careful to never let that happen again. If she loved somebody, they would let her down. 

Which was why her heart was beating a mile a minute in her chest right now, her hands shaking as they fumbled at his jacket and there was a slight ringing noise in her ears.

“Lacey.”

She ignored him. She hadn’t had sex in three years.

Three.Years.

“Lacey, stop.”

Rumple captured her hands with one of his. The fire behind them crackled in the sudden silence, the empty halls around them were frozen in time as he stared up at her. Lacey leaned back down to kiss him, but his other hand cupped her face, his taloned thumb stroking her cheek. 

“You’re crying,” he told her softly. 

“I’m not,” she said but her voice betrayed her as it broke on a sob. Her eyes slipped closed as her lower lip began to tremble. “I want this,” she repeated to him, to herself. “More than anything.”

He raised a brow at her, and she chuckled, breaking the tension. She melted forward against him, burying her face back into his neck. He smelled of fire and magic, something inherently old and forgotten that soothed her instinctively. His hands wrapped around her, holding her close to his chest as they breathed in each other.

“I love you,” Lacey whispered to him, fingers clutching the front of his jacket. 

He was silent for a moment, but Lacey did not panic or worry. She simply sat back onto her heels to wipe the last few tears from her face as she smiled down at him. He stared up at her, speechless.

He looked like the night they had first met, a look of bewildered shock that was comical on his usually stoic face. He had not however had this look of stunned awe.

Lacey poked him. “Say something.”

“What do you want me to say?” he whispered. “What can I say?”

Lacey squeezed her knees around his thighs. His hands were all but forgotten where they rested on her hips. The sexual tension had vanished, and though she had no idea how to get it back, her heart was beating weirdly as if it had just learned some new dance. She wanted to smile and cry all at the same time. 

“Um,” she chuckled. “How about you love me too?”

He struggled to sit more upright so they were eye to eye. “Would that suffice?” he asked her as he took her hands in his. “I love everything about you from your insufferable habit of arguing with everything I say-”

“I do not!”

“-to the way you smack your mouth in your sleep,” he continued. “I love the way you miss the things that are right under your nose but how you can see so much more. The curve of your lips when you sulk, the smell of your terrible cooking, and the sound of your voice when you call me that ridiculous nickname are all precious to me.”

DoDo was an inspired nickname. Maybe she should bring it back for special occasions...

He did not even pause. “I love you more than life itself, but sweetheart, this is not going to be easy.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” Lacey assured him. 

“Neither am I,” he said, his voice vehement. “To my dying day, I will love you, Lacey French but I am still the same creature I was the day you met me. A demon, a soulless creature, drawn to power and ruthless in protecting what is his.”

He was warning her, trying to give her one last way out. Lacey ignored it. “Fine,” she said with a shrug. “I’m a Guardian, so I’ll watch over you. Besides, Neal won’t mind helping out if you get too big for your britches and neither of us age so if you do cause trouble, one of us will fix it before you get yourself in trouble. We’ll travel the world, never stay in one place too long and if you get a particular evil craving, we’ll come back here and live for a few years until you get it out of your system.”

He pushed the hair out of her face. “I love you,” he told her as he pressed a soft kiss to her forehead. 

“I love you,” Lacey replied, draping her arms around his neck. She nudged his face with her nose until he found her lips, a gentle kiss that was half promise, half reverence. Lacey indulged in it, sighing in contentment.

She had never been in love before. In fact, she hadn’t even planned on saying it. It had been one of those unspoken truths but now that it was out in the world, everything that had seemed so scary moments ago had disappeared.

“Lacey,” he mumbled, eyes closed as he pulled away for breath. 

She hummed in response, sinking down lower into him, relishing the way his body fit against hers. He was in his full demon regalia, scaled jacket and linen drawstring shirt, leather breeches molded to his ass and thigh high boots that she secretly coveted for herself. 

“Are you wearing underwear?”

She looked up at him from her lashes and winked. “Not anymore.”

Being a witch was particularly fun sometimes. 

He groaned, eyes fluttering closed as Lacey’s fingers traced the lines of his scales at his collarbone. His hips rose to meet hers, but slowly, as if he wasn’t quite sure if this was something she wanted him to do.

She answered in kind. She ground down on his length, biting her lip as millions of tiny shocks shot through her body. 

“It’s been a long time,” she admitted to him, pressing a kiss where his jaw met his neck. “I think I still remember how to do this though.”

She untangled herself from him until she stood in front of him, the fire illuminating her from behind. He protested, snagging her hand as if to drag her back but she sank to her knees in front of him.

She pulled off one of his boots, and then the other. Magically assisted, it was all very easy, but the sight of his bare toes tensed in anticipation did a funny thing to her stomach. She traced the bones in his foot, followed the curve of his arch and when he stiffened, she stilled in glee.

“You’re ticklish?” she mouthed as if Christmas had come early. “Ohhhhh.”

“No!” he exclaimed, but it was too late. She had already seized his left foot and with a flick of her pinkie, he began to twitch and convulse as a featherly sensation attacked his barefoot in gusto. “Stop, stop!” he begged, hardly able to breath. 

Lacey took mercy on him, leaning in for another kiss. He grabbed her, tried to bring her back into his lap but she pulled him forward until she could wiggle his jacket off. His frame was slender, a compact but hard frame that hid the power lurking beneath the surface. He did not look small without his jacket, but undone, as if he had shed something more than just a layer of clothes.

His hair was mussed and his eyes were dark, lips slightly swollen from where she had bitten it earlier. He was beautiful.

He stood. “I have lived for four centuries in the world above and in this hell below and I have heard mortals speak of angels on high but have never believed such a thing could exist. How could there be a God to allow all that pain and suffering….but then I met you….you in all your magnificent glory and for the first time in my miserable existence, I can see how mortals believe in something greater than themselves. How the world above made something so magnificent and allowed me to even witness it, I will never understand.”

He kissed her again, his one deep and slow. He licked at her bottom lip, teasing her by pulling away ever so slightly whenever she tried to deepen the kiss in turn. Lacey tugged at his hand, needing more, and he cupped her left breast. 

It was if the dam was unleashed. They both groaned in ecstasy as he ripped her flimsy t-shirt off and threw it to the shadows around them. He pushed down her lacy bralette, cupping her left breast in his right hand as his mouth moved to her neck.

They had done this before. He knew the exact pressure she liked, the way to suck at her pulse point as his fingers plucked and pinched at her nipple as her other hand kneaded her other breast. Her head fell backwards and he followed, slowly lowering them both to the rug in front of the fireplace.

Lacey gasped as his mouth latched onto her breast, teeth grazing her hardened nipple. He growled in response, his curls sprawling over her chest as he licked and sucked until her hips snapped up on their own free will. 

“Patience,” he admonished her, a hand sliding down her bare stomach to still her. 

“Easy for you to say,” she gasped as he moved his attention to her other breast. “I haven’t had sex in three years.”

“Nor I in three decades,” he murmured as his talons traced circles into her side. “I want to enjoy this.”

Lacey wiggled. “Fuck first, make love later,” she panted. She seized his shoulders, pulling him up to lay atop of her. His leather breeches hid nothing, his hardness flush against her, throbbing to the beating of his heart. 

“Fine,” he growled. He bit her upper lip hard, as he rolled them over. She was on top now, and she made short work of his own shirt and breeches thanks to a particular helpful divesting charm she had learned just for this situation. 

Her own clothes followed quickly. Her sex glided over his length, slick and dripping as his eyes clenched shut in sensation. HIs hands rose to guide her hips into position, his own stomach tense in anticipation.

They had taken baths together, long luxurious afternoons wasted in bubbles and trashy magazines, lingering kisses and gentle explorations. His body was nothing new but she had never tasted him, never felt him in her mouth, hard and thick and wanting but she couldn’t wait another second.

She took him in her hand and stroked him, relishing in the feeling of softness overlaying the muscles beneath. A sheen of white appeared on his head and Lacey swiped it on her index finger, sucking into her mouth with a greedy groan.

He could not wait either it seemed. At her noise of gratification, he rolled out from underneath her and pinned her to the carpet. “Tell me you want this.” Hs hips aligned with her core, the head of him just barely grazing the folds of her sex. She arched her back for more, to entice him to thrust into her but he simply waited like a statue. “Beg me,” he whispered, lowering his mouth to hers. His tongue teased the edges of her lips. She flushed as need and want warred inside her. “Tell me what you want.”

“I want you,” Lacey moaned, going boneless as the head of his cock flicked over her clit. Stars exploded behind her eyelids as he repeated it, a little harder, a little slower as if he was torturing her with pleasure. 

“What was that?”

“I want you to fuck me,” Lacey pleaded. “Rumple, please, I-!”

He sank into her, and Lacey cried out in relief as the frustrating ache blossomed into more. She arched her chest against him, her nipples tightening as he rocked into her again. There was no pattern or art to this, just a tale as old as time. 

Her legs went around until her heels pressed into his ass, pushing him deeper as she tilted to meet him. He bent down to kiss her again, so she was bent nearly in two as he continued to thrust into her, sparks and shocks of sensation tingling throughout her body.

Lacey had never had sex as a witch before. Plenty of books had hinted at some key differences but she hadn’t understood what any of them had meant.

Now she did.

Each of her centers flared to life. Magic swirled around them, as time itself seemed to stop. Her center core did not burn but centered her in the midst of all this. Rumple’s hand dipped between them, and his fingers found her clit. She hissed in pleasure as he started to circle it in time with his thrusts, pulling out a little more each time and then slamming back into her as tension built inside her. 

His face glowed in the firelight. His golden eyes reflected her own upturned face contorted in pleasure. He leaned down to swallow her gasps as he hit just the right angle. “Right there, right there,” she begged him, her head falling backwards as he deepened his stroke. 

Her head did not hit the floor though. Her hair hung down in curls to the floor a few feet below them. They were floating in front of the great fireplace locked into each other as the magic cushioned them. “Rumple,” she gasped as he buried his head into her neck. “Rumple, I’m close-I’m so close- I’m-!”

He bit down as his thumb and index finger pinched at her clit, and Lacey’s world exploded into a million tiny fragments. It was like nothing she had ever had felt before. Seven different orgasms rolled through her body as each of her centers exploded in sensation. There was the small shivers, the deep boneless release and the quick, hard painful one that made you gasp for air. 

Rumple’s thrusts became more erratic as he followed soon after. He kissed her as he spilled into her, a shuddering moan ripped from his throat as Lacey sank her nails into his back. 

They slowly floated back down to the floor. Lacey pressed kisses onto Rumple’s face. Their skin glistened with sweat, and her body tingled all over. 

“That was amazing,” she sighed, letting her eyes drift close. “Is it always like that?’

He knew what she meant. “No,” he murmured as Lacey waved a hand over where they were still joined. The sticky mixture disappeared as he slid out of her. He pulled her flush against him so her ass was tucked into the curve of his hips. “It’s not always like that.”

“Are you going to sleep?” Lacey giggled.

“Shush,” he grumbled, pressing a kiss to the back of her neck. “I’m four centuries old. Give me a few minutes to recover before I ravish you again.”

“Ravish? No one says ravish outside of romance novels.”

“Because no one takes time to properly ravish people these days,” he told her matter of factly. 

“What’s a proper ravishment then?” Lacey asked, letting her own eyes drift close.

“Well,” he mumbled into her hair. “After our nap, you’ll wake up to find me between your thighs. Now, you’ll be so close to coming by then you won’t be able to speak much more than gibberish. When you finally do come from my tongue alone, we’ll move on to exploring how each of a witch’s centers is triggered by touch.”

“Sounds wonderful,” Lacey sighed. “But at some point, we’re finding a large mirror.”

“A large mirror?”

“Hmmphm,” Lacey agreed. “Ever had a blow job in front of a giant mirror?”

There was a beat before he sat upright. Lacey laughed in protest as he pulled her up as well. “I know just the place,” he said, tugging her after him. 

Lacey’s laughter echoed in the empty halls of the Dark Castle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Love you all. Was fun to bump the rating up to E for this chapter and get some of this big stuff out of the way.
> 
> Thanks to everyone who sent prompts in. Love you all and hope you enjoyed this.


	62. Chapter 62

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DoDo goes to Lace for comfort.

_Friday December 9th, 2016_

All demons remembered their morality. Some with a sneer, some with wistfulness, but each and every one of them remembered the choice. Perhaps it was good demons did not sleep. There was no telling what nightmares lurked in their subconscious or what lay in the depths of their fragmented psyches.

As for Rumplestitlskin, he had spent centuries trying to forget. Some eras were better than others, but he avoided Scotland all together.

Except when Lacey asked a favor of him. Mal had been buried by her coven on Shetland Isle where she hailed. Her familiar had wasted away after her death until Lacey had begged him to take the pony to Mal’s resting place. There on that rocky island so close to his own heritage, he had known it was time to face his past.

Currently, Lacey was sprawled out on his bed, sheets draped over her to keep the odd chill of the castle at bay. All the stones of the castle were warm to the touch but the air had a constant cold to it, as if spirits hung in the air around them. It was not spirits of course, no souls lingered here for long. This realm was for the dead and empty.

Rumplestitlskin pressed a kiss to her forehead, enjoying the way she stirred at his touch. Even unconscious, her magic brushed against him encouragingly as if to draw him back down to her. A siren’s call he had to resist. This was something that had to be done, he could not put it off any longer.

“Sweetheart,” he murmured, but she scrunched up her nose and snuggled deeper into the pillows. His witch did not like to waken, she preferred dreams to reality, and while the last few hours had been a fantasy, it was time to return to the real world.

He tapped her nose and a baleful blue eyes opened to glare at him. “There’s better ways to wake me,” she told him. Her magic called to him, his own stores dangerously depleted but this could not wait.

“Love, there is nothing more I would like to do than stay here with you for the rest of our lives, but you know it’s time to go back.”

Lacey did not move for a moment, but slowly sat up. The sheet fell away to reveal her nakedness, and his body stirred despite himself. He was not made of stone after all.

His witch was a masterpiece. Her pale, rose colored skin was like the women from the continent, untouched by sun or grief. There were histories mapped across her skin, small scars, birthmarks, blue veins and fine lines. He leaned down for a taste of her pulse point, his hand moving to cup her left breast just for a moment and she sighed in sleepy pleasure as his curls brushed against her skin.

“I thought it was time to go back?” she teased as her hands buried themselves into his hair.

He pressed one more kiss to her neck before he withdrew. He did not know how much time they would have for moments like these in the upcoming days. “Lacey, I have something for you.”

“Oh?” she said, scooting closer. “Is it bigger than a breadbox?”

Her smile was infectious. He made a vow to surprise her with more small tokens and gifts, just to see that particular curiosity and delight on her face again. He picked up the parcel from the floor by the bed and without a word deposited it in her hands.

Her smile faded. “What is this?”

“You know what it is,” he said heavily.

“I don’t want it,” she said, thrusting it back at him. “Put it back.”

He did not take it from her. “You need to understand the power behind it. The full moon is in four days times, the third supermoon in a row. The Old One will strike before the Winter Solstice and we’re running out of time.”

Lacey had gone cold with fury. “So, what? You want me to use you? What happened to all that talk about not going anywhere? You sat here last night and you promised-”

“Lacey,” he interrupted. “You need to have all the pieces.”

“This is not one of the pieces to defeat Bozo….this is a piece to defeat you.”

The bundle in her lap was long and skinny, but it emitted a power all its own. Her hands flexed as if she wanted to push it away, banish it, but she was smarter than that. Magic could not impact a demon’s dagger.

He flipped the wrapping open, and the long, skinny, wicked blade reflected his face. His name was etched across it, long and angular across the crooked dagger.

“The one who wields the blade-”

“wields the demon,” Lacey finished for him. “Yea, I know. What the fuck am I supposed to do with this?”

He cracked a grin. “I could think of some interesting ideas…”

Lacey sighed, and for the first time since he had deposited the dagger in her lap, looked up at him. “I don’t want this,” she said firmly. “This feels like you’re giving up.”

“I’m not,” he told her. Her hand lay on the bed at her side, and he covered it with his own. “You’ve come so far, but demon history is long and complex and you will not learn what you need in any book or from any witch alive.”

Lacey interlaced her fingers through his. “Rum,” she said softly. “You don’t have to do this.”

She was right, but there was something in him that needed to say this out loud. He had never even told Neal. Why would he? His son already thought low enough of him.

Lacey however...Lacey would understand.

“I retrieved it when I took Dragon to the Shetland Isle to where Mal was buried,” he told her. The dagger stared up at him from her lap, the hum of power humming through his bones as it reached out for him. “I had hid it in some caves where I had….where I had once lived.”

He had been born in the Inchadamph hamlet of Assynt, a region in the Highlands, four centuries ago. He had grown in the brisk air among the mountains and caves to be a small, frail man. With no parents to watch over him, he learned his own way in the world. A shepherd by trade, he took care of the livestock for the wealthier townspeople.

It had been a quiet life, an unremarkable one until his secret had gotten out.

A hidden talent in a field mostly reserved for women, Rumplestitlskin had loved to spin. Taught by the women who had cared for him as a child, he continued it throughout his early years though he never sold any of his work. He spent the cold nights on the ridges, but when he was at home, he spun.

When his secret had gotten out, his neighbors reacted with derision, scorn, and disbelief. A few locals even accused him of stealing, but he ignored them. They labeled him a craven, a coward, a woman in pants. They spread rumors he was a changeling, and slowly, so slowly, he almost did not notice, he grew to be old and alone.

The night his life ended, he had been forty four years old. He had been summoned to Ardvreck, a castle on Loch Assynt. Many summoned here never returned, though any who defied the summons was dragged there eventually. Rumplestitlskin had been terrified, and though he wished to run, he had been to afraid to leave his home and everything he had ever known.

How different would his life had been if he had been just a little braver?

The lord of the castle had greeted him, thought not another soul had appeared in the dark halls. They had spent an evening in a solar, discussing livestock, the hamlet, and Rumplestitlskin's spinning. There had been wine...and something in the wine because when Rumplestitlskin awoke, he was in a different room.

“This dagger,” he said softly to Lacey,” is the second one created in this world. Only Zoso’s is older.”

Lacey did not react by flinging it down. No tears entered her eyes or words of platitude escaped her lips. She sat there, still as a stone, and listened.

“I was the first demon created on earth. Zoso was born from...some evil I could not explain. He too was born a mortal man, but no one created him...he himself devised creation of our kind. He spent decades cultivating the technique on those like myself….loners, outcasts. The castle was built on the bones of all that had gone before me.”

Rumplestitlskin had tried in vain to discover how Zoso had become a demon. He had not cared in his first century, too taken up with death and pain of others, determined to take all he could from the world that had shunned him, thrown him out, killed him. It was not until he realized knowledge was power that he had tried to learn about his creator but even by then, it was too late.

“Do you know the story of Lucifer?”

“Fell from heaven in disgrace?”

He nodded. “From what I can tell, that is the true story of Zoso. A man born into paradise who cast it aside for what I do not know. Power? Immortality?”

Lacey shook her head. “Are you telling me there’s an actual God?”

He shrugged. “I do not know,” he admitted. “There are...signs. I have seen things...that no witch or demon could do. The Church protects its secrets, so perhaps there is one or perhaps it a collection of mystics or a conspiracy. I do not know, nor have I ever sought to learn. It is a mystery best left to the Church.”

“So, Zoso is the devil?”

“The Church’s devil, in particular, yes,” he said. “The rest of us, demons, daemons, even some of the halfbreeds are under his domain, though not under his sway per se. As the first, he enjoys a level of control, or did until he was banished and locked away into his own realm.”

Lacey winced. “Until I brought him back to Earth.”

“But he has not left Earth since,” Rumplestitlskin pointed out. “Which begs the question, why?”

Lacey’s eyes widened. “Do you think he can’t cross the veil like you can?”

“Not without triggering the Guardians,” he said, nodding to her. “You wouldn’t be able to stop him in his realm, you have no dominion there, so he would be safe, but unable to put any acts into motion.”

Zoso had glamored himself, stayed in Storybrooke and toyed with them all from the shadows. Yet, he had stayed.

“At first, I thought nothing of it. He had been banished for nearly a century, wanted to stretch his legs...but when he was weakened at the Summer Solstice and stayed...I began to wonder.”

“Maybe he just wants to wreck as much havoc as possible,” Lacey suggested.

“Or he can’t come and go freely,” Rumplestitlskin replied. “His banishment was mysterious in its own right, whispers and fragments have come over the years, but from what I can tell, it was one of the most powerful spells a witch has ever dared cast on our kind. No demon or witch could break it...before you.”

Lacey’s brow furrowed. “I didn’t even mean to do it,” she said with a shake of her head. “It was before...before I knew.”

His lips tightened. He had a suspicion but now was not the right time to speak it.

“His dagger is still unaccounted for, even though Jefferson has searched our realm and this one high and low. It’s likely that the dagger is with him, which means it’s in Storybrooke.”

Lacey held up his dagger. It shone in the firelight from the mantle across the room. “So, why give me this?”

“I have challenged Zoso repeatedly over the years, but I am still his creation.”

A creation born of blood and fear. The spinner had laid upon a rack, his body a ruin, runes carved into him. More blood had been on the floor and the walls than in him and the lord had stood over him, Rumplestitlskin's heart beating in his hand and he had laughed.

The offer had been made. Immortality, power, and magic all for the low cost of his soul. As the lord reminded him, his soul was already cursed, only the darkness of the afterlife awaited him.

Death had been in the room, a grey shadow flickering in the firelight with blood on his hands. The dark beyond had beckoned him, but fear had climbed up his throat, found his tongue and made the deal.

One could not measure the change in levels of pain. His torture and his agony was nothing compared to the feeling of his soul being ripped of his body. The weeks after that, he had lived as Rumplestitlskin...until a woman had mocked him, ridiculed him as she passed by him one day on the street.

The next moment, the whole hamlet had laid in ruins, bodies everywhere and he had tasted his first soul. The art of the deal came to him over time, but those first years were bloody and dark, souls ripped from their hosts, weaker than those freely given, but still they held magic.

His body had changed to reflect the monstrosity of his deal. He had embraced it, used it to strike more deals, more fear, and it had become his true face. Until a witch had learned to love him regardless.

“When I grew more focused, Zoso proposed a partnership,” Rumplestitlskin told her. “I would reap souls for him, and he would show me the way to becoming all powerful. I spurned him, laughed in his face. He had created an equal, not a subordinate.”

Zoso’s fury had been all consuming. The castle had burned down around them as Rumplestitlskin had stood there, laughing in the flames. The two had stood there, daggers in hand, at a stalemate.

After that, Zoso had created lesser demons. Some had challenged them, others had served them, but none had ever neared the power of the first two. Rumplestitlskin had never created a demon of his own though he knew the way. There was no reason, he had no need of anyone.

“That is my soul,” Rumplestitlskin told Lacey. “It is the source of my power and it is my only weakness.”

Or it had been. Now, his real weakness clutched it in her hands.

“With that, you can challenge him,” he told her. “Perhaps even force him to show his own dagger, and once he does that, we have a chance.”

“You want me to use your soul in a last ditch attempt?” Lacey asked in disbelief. “What happens if he wins? If he takes it from me? You’ll be under his control.”

“Then, Jefferson will kill me,” he said matter of fact. “We’ve already discussed it.”

She stared at him in slack jawed disbelief. “Are you nuts?” she whispered. “Are you sitting here, the day after you promised me that you would not leave me, and telling me you’re going to commit suicide by proxy?”

“I am not committing suicide, or giving up,” he growled, losing patience. “I am giving you the best chance I can. For your friends, for your family, for you. It’s in your hands now.”

“But...why?”

He bowed his head. “Four centuries ago, I made a craven’s choice. I begged for my life though it was worthless. I should have died like a man, but I couldn’t do it. I became a demon, I became a monster, and I relished it. Until last night, when you looked at me, and loved me.”

She pushed the dagger to the bed, and threw herself into his arms. “I do,” Lacey breathed into his neck. “I do love you. So much.”

He clutched her like a dying man clutched at the salvation. “Then, trust me.”

She exhaled, her breath tickling his collar but she finally nodded. “I’ll take the stupid dagger,” she mumbled into his neck. “But you better be right about this.”

He tightened his arms around her and hoped he was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for the wonderful comments on the last chapter!! Hoped it was worth 60 chapters. ;D
> 
> Was very excited to share this one as we learn more about Rumple's past, Zoso and take a huge step forward as far as the Full Moon showdown. (Also how cool is it that I'm writing this story in a year where there were THREE supermoons in a row?) 
> 
> So, Lacey now has the dagger (a demon's soul) and is going to use it in the hopes of getting the last thing they need to take down Zoso once and for all. Next chapter, we return to Storybrooke.


	63. Chapter 63

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No prompt for this one. I still have a few to answer but we’re getting to the final stages so will save those for the next few chapters and address a few story lines that are still dangling.
> 
> I'll go ahead and say prompts are officially closed for this story. HOWEVER, I would encourage you all to ask questions, and nudge me if there are any storylines you still have questions about!

_Saturday, December 10th, 2016_

Lacey was in hell.

“Okay everyone! Time’s up!” Beside Lacey, Mary Margaret was still frantically scribbling. The hostess, catching this, cleared her throat. “Pencils down.”

Lacey helpfully elbowed Mary Margaret. “Better listen to the lady,” she whispered. “Looks like she means business.”

Mary Margaret grumbled, but relinquished her sheet as another of Ariel’s sisters came around to collect the sheets. They had already been here for an hour and the bridal shower showed no signs of slowing down. All six of Ariel’s sisters had come in town from all over the world. Ariel being the youngest, and the first to get married, apparently meant a lot to the large family.

The bride-to-be was decked in a toilet paper wedding dress, beaming at everyone with rosy cheeks from the champagne people kept pushing on her. A mountain of gifts were stacked behind her, and the entire rented hall was packed to the gills.

Ruby returned from the buffet area, carrying three glasses of wine masterfully. “Which sister is bossy pants again?” she asked as she handed them both their bellinis.

“Tina,” Mary Margaret said with a definite nod. “She’s the oldest.”

As the rest of the sheets were gathered, Tina clapped her hands together to draw attention back to her. “Okay, now, let’s see what people have to say to the future Mr and Mrs. Barnes! First up, let’s see… Andrea!”

Attention switched to the blonde in the back corner by the bar. Andrea was another of Ariel’s sisters with blonde hair piled in a messy bun and sporting an unseasonal lavender dress. She looked as thrilled at the proceedings as Lacey felt.

“‘Dear Ariel and Eric,’” Tina read proudly, “‘when I first heard about your plans to get married, I thought… _Tina will have a complete breakdown when she hears our baby sister is getting married before her_ ’- Andrea!”

Andrea shrugged. “You did.”

Ariel giggled before she stuffed a fist in her mouth to stifle the noise. Tina recovered quickly, shuffling the papers for another paper. “Well, since you didn’t take it seriously, let’s read...Rita’s!”

Ariel’s other blonde sister was busy reapplying her bright red lipstick in a compact mirror. A brunette in blue across the room stood up with her hands on her hips. “Is that my lipstick?”

The blonde looked up to find the entire room’s attention on her. “Um,” she stalled. “Maybe?”

“Sit down, Brooke,” Tina snapped. “Okay, continuing…’I’m so _tickled_ that _I get to wear emerald for the wedding_ ’. Wait, we decided on emerald?”

“Ariel decided on emerald,” Rita said smugly.

“I thought you were doing coral?” Tina said, turning on her sister. Ariel deflated under the writhing stare of her eldest sister, looking across the room to catch Lacey’s eye for help.

Lacey sighed. As the only bridesmaid in the wedding party not directly related to Ariel, she had already been dragged into four fights today alone. “We chose emerald because everyone looks good in green,” she said. “Plus, coral isn’t a good color for redheads.”

“She’s not wearing it,” Tina said, crossing her arms.

“Can we hurry up?” Ruby asked. “I have a shift in two hours I’d like to make.”

“Tina,” Ariel said sweetly, laying a hand on her sister’s arm. “We can talk about it later. Let’s read someone else’s.”

“Fine. Adele, did you manage to turn one in?”

Adele looked up from her phone as texts continued to bounce through, vibrating loudly in the silence of the room. “Um.”

“That’s a no,” Andrea supplied helpfully.

“I am so glad I’m an only child,” Mary Margaret whispered to Lacey.

The last of the sisters, Elena, raised her hand eagerly. “Read mine!” she exclaimed.

Elena and Ariel were irish twins and closer than any of the others so Elena had been chosen as maid of honor.

Tina shuffled through the paper before finally finding it. “Let’s see, Elena says….’I want to wish you both _a lifetime of laughter_ and to remind you that the secret to wedded bliss is to _always touch toes before you go to sleep at night_.’"

“Seriously, Elena?” Adele giggled from her seat. “Touch toes?”

“It’s sweet,” Elena protested.

“I love it,” Ariel declared, standing up to wrap her arms around her sister. She nearly fell but luckily Elena caught her.

“Any day now,” Ruby grumbled under her breath. “It’ll be her wedding before we’re done here.”

“Read Brooke’s next,” Elena suggested as Ariel returned to her seat.

Tina looked like she was about to argue but opted to keep the peace. “‘Ariel, remember to always…. _suck_ Eric’s…’ No, I’m not reading that.”

Lacey leaned over to Mary Margaret and Ruby. “Didn’t expect that from Brooke.”

“Okay, this one is our other bridesmaid’s...Lacey’s,” Tina continued nobly as Ariel giggled her way through Brooke’s letter. “‘Ariel, the key to Eric’s _pants_ lies in _proper ravishment_.’” Tina arched an eyebrow at Lacey. “Who uses the word ravishment anymore?”

Lacey grinned. “People who have been properly ravished.”

Mary Margaret and Ruby exchanged interested looks but Tina shook her head and continued on as if determined to get through this game without yelling. “Mary Margaret, a local friend of Ariel’s, says ‘I wish you both a lifetime of _new discoveries, inside jokes, and stolen moments_.’”

“Thank God she didn’t pick mine,” Ruby whispered. “I just drew suggestive stick fingers.”

The three of them broke out into laughter as Tina finally gave up. “Everyone break for cake and then we’ll open gifts,” she announced before marching off to the drink cart. All her sisters followed, as well as a few old family friends Lacey had not met yet.

Ariel hurried over to them, glowing with pleasure and champagne. “Thank you all for coming!” she said, hugging each of them in turn. “I know my family can be a lot.”

That was an understatement.

“It’s great they’re here for you,” Lacey said. “Elena mentioned this is the first time you’ve all been in the same spot in a long time.”

Ariel nodded. “Dad really wanted to come too but business kept him overseas.”

It was sometimes easy to forget Ariel was a trust fund baby of one of the wealthiest men in trade. Kingsley Benton was well known all over the world for his business empire and his seven beautiful daughters. Tina was second in command, poised to take over the empire while her other sisters all held some position or other in the company.

“By the way,” Ruby cut in, “Tina mentioned you got a promotion! Congrats!”

Ariel shrugged good-naturedly. “Dad wants us to move to Boston, so…”

Ariel managed Triton Shipping for the North Eastern coast, but hated big cities. She had stayed in Storybrooke after college, and had so far resisted everyone of her father’s attempts to move her to a more populated area.

Lacey frowned. “So, you’re moving?”

“After the wedding!” Ariel hurried to reassure her. “Eric’s company is doing well too, so we’re going to move personnel operations of Prince’s Tuna to Boston as well. The factory is doing so well, but Eric need a bigger space to run the business.”

“Shit,” Ruby whistled. “You gone house hunting yet?”

Ariel waved a hand. “Oh, you know, we’ll find something small. Now, have you tried the cake yet?”

Lacey trailed after the trio, smiling to herself. Ariel had always hated being a ‘princess’ and always diverted any attention away from her wealth. They had been friends for over two years in college before Lacey had even found out Ariel was one of those Bentons.

“How’s Archie?” Ariel was asking Ruby as they waited in line.

“Uh, he has a friend in town,” Ruby said with a shrug. “Haven’t seen him much the past few days.”

A friend as in a assassin doppelgänger sent to collect Mary Margaret's newborn daughter. Mary Margaret’s shoulders tensed at even the slight mention of Bellamy and downed her bellini in one gulp.

“Easy there,” Lacey murmured. “Remember, they’re locked up in the werewolf room. Emma’s completely safe.”

The Nolans had been staying at Lacey’s while she and Rumple were in the other realm, but had returned back to the Victorian this morning after Lacey and Regina had both covered the place with more protection spells. That house was now the most protected place in all of North America, a fact Reul would not miss.

“Just on edge,” Mary Margaret replied back as Ariel was captured by some elderly women from Eric’s side of the family. “Neal and Jefferson have Emma while David’s at work, and I know Gold’s there too but still.”

“Cruella’s still at the Inn,” Ruby added. “She’s driving Granny nuts.”

That made four halfbreeds, three witches, two demons, and a werewolf.

As they got their cakes, Tina hurried back up to the microphone at the front of the room. “Lacey? Lacey?”

Lacey handed her slice of cake to Ruby with a groan. She raised her hand and Tina waved her up to the podium. “You have a visitor,” she said gesturing towards the front of the building.

“A what?”

“Visitor,” Tina repeated slowly. “I told her to come in but she said she’d wait for you out front.”

It wasn’t Regina then. Definitely not Cruella. Maybe Reul?

Reul was close. Standing in the front atrium, wrapped in a giant navy coat, and shaking with cold, stood a woman Lacey had never met. However, the silver cross dangling over her coat was a surefire give away.

“Lacey?” the woman asked nervously. “Lacey French?”

Lacey nodded. Her magic remained calm. This woman was not a threat.

The woman melted in relief, and threw her arms about her. “Oh thank goodness!” she murmured. “Leroy said you’d be here but I was just so nervous with all these people!”

“Wait, Leroy?”

The nun nodded eagerly. “I’m Astrid,” she said, sticking her hand out. It seemed a bit silly after the enthusiastic hug, but Lacey shook it. “It’s so nice to finally meet you!”

“Likewise,” Lacey said.

Astrid was not what she had imagined. She was taller than Lacey (most people were) and was whip thin with angular features and large brown eyes. She was practically trembling with nervousness which Lacey had mistaken for cold but there was no denying that the woman was striking.

“You’re a nun?” Lacey asked, unable to help herself.

Astrid sighed. “I’m a novice,” she admitted, her hand moving to clasp her cross. “I was sent to Storybrooke to serve the people of the this town in the face of the forces of evil.”

Lacey nodded as if that made sense. “Right. So,you….choose to become a nun?”

“My mother died when I was very young,” Astrid hurried to tell her. “I was put in a covenant children’s home and Reul found me. She took me in, gave me a home, taught me the ways of magic-”

“You’re a witch?”

Astrid shook her head sadly. “My powers never manifested,” she said quietly. “It happens from time to time in weaker lines.”

“I see,” Lacey said. It made sense. Her magic had been calm around the stranger, but it had not reacted the way it usually did around a fellow witch.

“Reul was so disappointed,” Astrid told her. “But she’s allowed me to stay, and I thought I could devote my life to the cause like she has-”

“The cause?’

“Upholding the Laws of the Three,” Astrid said helpfully. “But ever since we came here, everything’s been so...so...topsy turvy and I’m scared.”

“Of Reul?”

“No!” Astrid blurted, voice echoing loudly. She flushed, shooting a nervous look around them as if someone might have overheard. “Reul would never harm anybody.”

Lacey arched a brow at her. “You sure about that?”

Astrid nodded wretchedly. “She’s just trying to do the right thing. And...and I understand but….” She risked a look at Lacey and bit her lip as if trying to decide whether or not to continue.

“Spit it out.”

“Reul says the Dark One is using you to further his goals of destroying this world and all that inhabit it, that you’re a traitor to witches and the Laws, seduced by evil and destined to bring about the end of the world!”

Lacey blinked. “Wow, that’s...that’s kind of flattering actually.”

Astrid made a noise of despair.

“I’m not though,” Lacey continued before the poor girl fainted. “I love the Dark One and he loves me. I know that sounds...impossible, believe me, but it’s true.”

“What about the Laws?” Astrid whispered.

“Screw the laws,” Lacey said with a shrug. “They’re just there to keep the peace, they aren’t actually solving anything.” It occurred to Lacey that Astrid was not really asking the question she wanted to ask. “You don’t want to serve the Church’s services anymore, do you?”

The nun did not deny it. “All my life they’ve taught me the difference between good and evil, what it means to serve for the greater good and I was happy. I knew right and wrong. Until…”

“Until Leroy,” Lacey finished for her.

“I never knew...how could I? It would kill Reul if she knew, she’s like a mother to me…but I love him. I love him but everything I’ve been taught says that it’s wrong.”

“That’s why you’ve been helping us,” Lacey realized. “You think if we can prove a demon and a witch can fall in love-”

“That love can conquer all,” Astrid said, the smallest smile appearing on her face. “If we can prove to Reul that a witch and a demon can fall in love, maybe she’ll understand that a nun can love too.”

“That’s all well and good but why are you here?” Lacey asked. “Where’s Leroy?”

“He’s fine!” Astrid hurried to say. “I just...I couldn’t figure out how to decipher what I came to tell you and he’s getting wise.”

Having no desire to bring Leroy in on the town secret, Lacey nodded. “Okay, what’s so big that you’d risk coming down here in person?”

“The Supreme Coven is at the covenant,” Astrid whispered. “They came when the doppelgänger did not return.”

“Shit,” Lacey groaned. The full moon was in three days, and for the safety of the town, Bellamy would have to give up the werewolf room to its proper occupant. While still heavily guarded, the Supreme Coven was no laughing matter as Mal and Regina had often reminded her. “Reul called in the Supreme Coven?”

A ringing of applause went up from the other room. Ariel must have started opening presents. Lacey had to get back before she was missed.

“She’s under a lot of pressure,” Astrid said apologetically. “She had hoped the demons would take care of each other so she would not have to get the Church involved.”

“So, she went to the witches instead?” Lacey said with a frown.

“Reul prefers to fight her own battles,” Astrid told her seriously. “There’s still many in the Church who do not trust her due to her...heritage.”

Reul betraying her entire sisterhood to serve the Church, she meant.

“Anyways, I came to tell you they were here. They’re watching you, the demon, and the baby closely. Tread carefully. They’re here to end this once and for all.”

“Good,” Lacey said with a grim grin. “It’s about time we got some things cleared up.”

Ruby appeared in the doorway from the main hall and spotted the two of them. “She’s opening your gift next!” she hissed before disappearing back around the corner.

“I have to go,” Lacey said to Astrid. “Thank you. For everything.”

Astrid had a sweet smile, trusting and hopeful all at once. “Please don’t mention it,” she said before growing serious. “Really, please, don’t.”

“Your secret is safe with me. Now, I think Leroy is down at the docks on his boat,” Lacey said with a wink. “Maybe you can take a detour on the way back to the covenant.

They said their goodbyes, Lacey just barely making it back in time for Ariel to hold up Lacey’s now unwrapped gift.

“What is it?”

Tina had her face in her hand. “It’s a sex swing,” she announced through her fingers.

“Best party ever!” Andrea hooted, clapping loudly. Her other sisters joined in as some of the more elderly members of the family urged Ariel to open it so they could examine it.

Mary Margaret shook her head as Lacey sat back down next to her. “You couldn’t resist, huh?”

“End of the world may be next week,” Lacey reminded her. “Might as well let the kids have fun.”

“Speaking of fun…” Mary Margaret said. “Was it just my imagination or did you just drop a big hint that you and Gold….”

At the memory of their trip to the Dark Realm, Lacey’s body started to tingle. 

“Finally!” Ruby exclaimed in whispered glee. “How was it?”

Lacey could only smile. “It was magical.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy Toledo, did you enjoy meeting Ariel's family? I had fun with them but they were a lot! I wanted to revisit Ariel since we haven't seen her in a little while, as well as introduce Astrid as she's been helping the gang and I wanted you all to see why a nun was helping a witch, demon, and a bunch of other misfits. 
> 
> To recap, we have Supreme Coven sniffing around, the Church complocating things, an uncoming Full Moon, a Winter Solstice, and a demon to defeat. Do you think we can do it all in twelve chapters???
> 
> In case you're a huge little mermaid fan and want to know who each sister is in canon.  
> Tina- Attina  
> Brooke- Aquata  
> Andrea- Andrina  
> Rita- Arista  
> Adele- Adella  
> Elena- Alana


	64. Chapter 64

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lacey&Gold have fun traveling the world and getting into all sorts of trouble  
> (Um....well. KIND OF.)

_Sunday December 11th, 2016_

If Neal had known he would be stuck babysitting, he would have never come to Storybrooke in the first place.

Jefferson laid on the couch. His top hat covered his face though it could not deafen the noise coming from upstairs. “It’s your turn,” he grumbled without moving a muscle.

“I went last time,” Neal reminded him. “You go.”

Archie had been called to the hospital for an emergency appointment that morning which left Neal and Jefferson stuck taking care of their little problem upstairs. The noise of screaming grew louder.

“Fine,” Jefferson grumbled, swinging his legs to the ground. “Code word is fillip.”

“Fillip?”

Jefferson mimed flicking something. “Either word or action,” he said as he headed up the stairs.

Neal shook his head but mercifully the shouting ceased as Jefferson threw open the door upstairs. Their muffled voices floated down the stairs, then there was the sound of footsteps towards the bathroom.

“How’s it going?”

Neal didn’t flinch. “Hey, Papa,” he said without looking up from his magazine.

His father had stopped wearing Gold’s face when it was just the few of them, however he still seemed to prefer the Italian suits. “How’s it going with our guest?”

“Their memory is back,” Neal said as he put down the magazine. “Also, Archie convinced them to drop Lacey’s face.”

The flush of a toilet overhead drowned out the last bit of that but his father seemed to understand regardless. “Any useful information?”

Neal shook his head. “Once memory started to come back, they clammed up. Still talks to Archie, but won’t say a word or two to me and Jefferson.”

The door closed overhead, and moments later, Jefferson returned to the room. He stopped dramatically, flicked at something invisible in the air, and then collapsed into a seated position beside where Pongo was napping. The dog, thankfully used to Jefferson at this point, shifted just a bit so his belly was exposed for scratches.

“Fillip, fillip, fillip,” Jefferson said solemnly. “A wonderful word.”

“Code word,” Neal explained for his father’s sake. “Just in case they get the drop on either one of us.”

“Wise,” Rumpelstiltskin said. “I’m here because Lacey and Regina tried to scry, but are having no luck. They did not appreciate my comments so I removed myself from the situation.”

Jefferson did not move, but his shoulders tightened ever so slightly. The jumper was not fond of others looking into the future, even the most powerful of seers. “No one can see the future,” he said. “They can only live it.”

“Well unless you want to take Lacey with you on your next jump, let her try. It’s distracting her.”

“Why!” Jefferson said as he bounded to his feet. “What a wonderful idea!”

Both he and his father froze. In the decades they had known him, Jefferson had never, not once, ever, offered to take anyone on a jump. By the look of his father’s face, Rumpelstiltskin had not known it was even possible.

“Take Lacey to the future?” Neal stuttered.

Jefferson’s eyes widened comically and he shook his head so hard his top hat fell on top of Pongo. “No!” he cried. “No one with a soul can jump!”

“But you just said-?”

Jefferson grinned at him and Neal felt sick. “Oh. Oh no,” he said, putting his hands up. “No. No way. Not happening.”

His father looked perplexed. “Jefferson, you’ve already seen the futures. How is taking Baelfire helpful? It could just complicate things further. You more than anyone know the risks.”

Neal winced. He had not known him then but his father had told him Jefferson once had a family of his own. He had been sane then, centered with family and love. Until curiosity had come to call. Not even his father knew what made Jefferson jump into his own future, but what he saw there was madness, loneliness and despair.

He had returned to his own time, and did everything in his power to prevent that life from happening. In his determination to save them, he condemned them. Within a year of the day he jumped, both his daughter and his wife were dead and buried and the man he had seen in his own future stood in the mirror. A cautionary tale for all that might look into the sands of time.

“Exactly,” Jefferson said, grabbing his hat from Pongo’s mouth before the Dalmatian could do any real damage to it. “If Lacey continues to pry, she’ll see one of the three futures I saw. Any hint at what may happen could send her down the path to one of the others or lock her in that timeline altogether.”

Neal looked nervously to his father but Rumpelstiltskin seemed to be considering it. “Papa!” he exclaimed. “No!”

“You don’t have anything to lose,” his father said with a shake of his head. “Besides, we could always erase your memories when you return. It might help us find out what the Supreme Coven has to do with all this.”

“This is ridiculous,” Neal said, standing. “I’m not going to be a part of this. Get Cruella to do it.”

“Cruella?” Rumpelstiltskin scoffed. “She’d change the future just for the hell of it.”

“I am not the one obsessing over this,” Neal reminded them both. “I’m the only sane one left around here.”

“Exactly,” Jefferson said as he too stood. “That’s the problem.” Before Neal could protest, Jefferson had his wrist in hand. “Say ‘Filip’!”

His father’s amused face was the last thing Neal saw before a whirl of colors surrounded him. Jefferson’s hand still clutched his wrist but he could neither feel it or see it. His entire senses were flooded and when he blinked, everything came to a crashing halt.

Neal and he stood in Archie’s living room still, but everything was utterly still.

Jefferson released him, moving off into the kitchen as if they had not hurtled through time.

“When are we?” Neal demanded, following after him. He stopped short at the sight of what was happening in the kitchen. He nearly had walked straight into Archie, who was midstep, trying to tie his bowtie as he hurried out of the kitchen. He was much older with white hair and sunken cheeks.

“Eighty years old and late for a very important date,” Jefferson told him as he poured himself a cup of coffee. The kitchen sparkled as clean as it was in their time, though the newer appliances and touches of futuristic innovation made Neal do a double take. Thankfully, living through the electronic revolution, it did not stop him for long.

“Thirty years in the future?” Neal asked.

Jefferson nodded. “Give or take a few months.”

The house was still the same, though most of the rooms had been updated. Neal walked through the hall and stopped at the sight of a group of pictures along the staircase wall. Curiosity piqued, he looked at one and then the other, unable to stop himself.

Many of them had Pongo in them, or at least Pongo and some other Dalmatians. One or two looked a bit different from the dog Neal knew, but it was obvious all of them had been loved. Archie himself only appeared in three photos. One with Pongo, one by himself at a retirement party, and one at the very top of the stairs as if hidden from surprise guests

It was an older photo, but not by much. A blonde teen in a graduation cap stood front and center while a large group of people clustered behind her. There was the Nolans, grey haired and slightly fuller in the middles, but still as in love as ever. Ruby’s hair was streaked with natural silver, and Ariel and Eric were off to the side, talking to another young woman, this one with black hair whose back was to the camera.

The graduate must have been Emma for Lacey had her arms around her in a hug from behind, his father as Gold stood beside David, eyes on Lacey instead of the camera. Neither of them had aged a day.

“Where are we?” he asked as Jefferson joined him.

The jumper shrugged. “Who knows?’ This was taken over ten years ago. Maybe we had another party.”

Neal shot him a look. “This is the future where we win?”

Jefferson nodded. “it’s not a perfect place,” he admitted. “Should we go outside?”

Lacey’s apartment building had been knocked down and rebuilt. Outside, the air was still and people were on the streets, frozen in time. It was spring at the moment, flowers blooming everywhere and coats being shed as the warmer weather approached.

“Do they still live here?” Neal asked as he followed behind Jefferson.

The jumper shook his head. “They travel around the world,” he told him. “They’re currently back in town at the moment.”

Neal did not have to ask why. Jefferson had taken them straight to the church off Main Street, the one falling apart back in 2016, abandoned and scheduled for demolition. Regina stood outside on her cell phone, only slightly aged with a touch of silver at her temples. She was dressed for a wedding, a present under her arm.

“Regina’s still mayor, then,” Neal said as he continued up the stairs. Most people were here already. Ruby sat beside Ariel and Eric, Leroy behind them, and - “Is that Cruella?”

Jefferson nodded. “Think she’d miss a party?”

“Is this my father’s wedding?” Neal said nervously, looking at all the familiar faces. He knew most of the people in the room, though there was some younger faces he did not recognize.

“My, no,” Jefferson chuckled. “They had a very intimate wedding in the forests around Montreal, you were the best man, Archie officiated, and Ruby cried all throughout the vows.” Neal must have appeared shocked because Jefferson grew serious. “This is only one future of many,” he reminded him softly. “Do not make the mistake I did.”

“Is this how it always is?” Neal asked him as Jefferson weaved in and out of the pews.

“It’s like walking in a painting,” Jefferson told him. “I walk through every moment of every life when I jump, and so I know Archie had food poisoning last week which is why he’s running late. I know Ruby is feeling the effects of the full moon due next week, and that the bride is so nervous she’s about to steal a car to run off.”

“That sounds promising for the groom,” Neal chuckled. “Poor bastard.”

“Well, it’ll work out,” Jefferson said with a shrug. “The groom is in a similar panic and is already in the process of hot-wiring the car now, so it’ll be a funny story when she steals it with him still in it.”

Neal shook his head. “Who are these people?”

Jefferson grinned. “Should we go out back and see?”

Neal shrugged. “Might as well.” They passed by a door propped open and Neal peaked in to see Mary Margaret and David sharing a quiet moment together. “Where’s Papa and Lacey?”

Jefferson pointed to a closed door further down the hall. “In there. I wouldn’t look just now though. They’re...um...in the middle of something.”

Neal groaned and hurried past the door in question. They arrived outside, the same heavy feeling in the air, to find a yellow bug, covered in cans and streamers and the words JUST MARRIED on its back window. Inside, he could make out a blonde in a wedding dress, but he could not see who she was laughing at in the backseat.

Jefferson stopped dead and Neal almost ran straight into him. The jumper had an odd look on his face as he waved Neal forward.

Bemused, Neal walked around the front of the Volkswagen bug, and stopped dead at the sight of the woman in the driver’s seat.

She was beautiful. Long blonde hair in a side braid, she had lost her veil at some point but there were still flowers intertwined in her hair. Her dress was old, a vintage dress from the twenties, one he had seen before in Cruella’s closet.

It was about then he knew what he would see if he looked in the backseat.

“Oh,” he said quietly as he continued to trace her face with his gaze. Emma Nolan smiled down at her groom in the backseat, a look of guilty amusement on her young face as she was caught in the act of fleeing the scene. Underneath all that, there was a look of utter adoration as she gazed down at her groom, a mutual understanding of two people who knew they were right for each other but from time to time let their fears get in the way.

“It’s one of my favorite stories about you two,” Jefferson said as he appeared beside him. “I tell it at your son’s wedding twenty-seven years from this moment.”

“My son- but how?”

“True Love’s Get is magic all of its own,” Jefferson reminded him. “Emma Cassidy, nee Nolan, trained under Lacey and her step-grandmother, Regina Mills. She is the most powerful witch of her generation, though her brother does give her a run for her money.”

“This is unreal,” Neal said, collapsing to sit on the curb beside the car. Despite that, he could not tear his eyes away from Emma’s face. “I held her in my arms last night,” he said more to himself than Jefferson. “I’m two hundred years older than her already!”

Jefferson shrugged. “With your father and Lacey’s adventures, you don’t have any reason to come back to Storybrooke for almost twenty-eight years,” he told him. “When you do visit one day, you meet Emma and the rest is history.”

Neal shook his head. “This is-this is-”

“This is one of the futures,” Jefferson said softly. “Should we see the rest?”

There was no colors this time. Everything just shifted as if the entire world had tilted just slightly to the left. Emma and the bug were gone, the church had disappeared as had everything else in the world. A field of salt surrounded where Neal sat, a wasteland of browns and blacks.

“We lose?”

Jefferson nodded. “Rumpelstiltskin tried to ensure victory by reaping souls before the solstice. He took one, then another, until he was drunk with the power of souls and was struck down.”

“Zoso?”

“Lacey, actually,” Jefferson said quietly. “Zoso reaped the souls of Mary Margaret and David, and Rumpelstiltskin took Emma’s before Zoso could use it against Lacey. It was too much for him.”

“He wouldn’t do that,” Neal protested. “Not now. Not after everything.”

“He did,” Jefferson told him. “To protect you and Lacey, he did the unthinkable. You died anyways, as did I. After that, it was easy for the Church and the Coven to convince Lacey the rightfulness of their ways. She struck your father down, and he did not lift a finger to protect himself.”

The future at the church had felt inconceivable to Neal, but here, this...this felt like reality to Neal. He had seen this countless times in the years he had lived, this he could believe.

“No,” Jefferson said quietly, flipping his coattails out to sit beside him in the dust. “Do not give up so easily. Is this the future you would prefer?”

“Of course not!” Neal sputtered.

“Then, have some faith in him,” Jefferson said. “He has faith in you.”

There was something lodged in Neal’s throat so he settled for a brisk nod. “Where is Lacey now? In this future?”

“She travels,” Jefferson said vaguely. “Members of the Supreme Coven are often on the move. Shall we see one more?”

“I thought you said there are countless futures?”

“There are, some a little different than the last. Why, I could take us to one where you went left instead of right last week and while it makes some difference, these are the three ones that are the most different from each other.”

“All because of my father’s choices?”

“He is the Dark One,” Jefferson reminded him. “Here we are.”

The world had tilted again, though neither of them had moved. They were back in Storybrooke though the church was still gone as was the old yellow bug. The town was emptier, as if everyone had gone away.

“Papa?” Neal asked without standing.

“Banished to the Dark Realms with the Old One. The Church and the Coven passed judgement on them both to spend eternity locked together in an endless struggle. Every demon chose a side, daemons went to war, and our world went on oblivious to the wars we could not see.”

“Banished?” Neal said in surprise. “Why?”

“For countless transgressions against the Law of the Three,” Jefferson stated. “Pick a law, any law and your father has broken it, flouted it and done it again for good measure.”

“So, why banish him now?”

“Well, when your father and Lacey failed to defeat Zoso at the Full Moon, they agreed to an alliance of kinds with the Church. The agreement hinged on Rumplestiltskin’s cooperation. Lacey disagreed, they fought, and in the end...the rest of the world went on just the same.”

 

“Where am I here?”

Jefferson shrugged. “Does it matter? Is this the world you would prefer?”

“No, I just…”

“You want to know because of the future you saw first? “

Neal didn’t respond.

“Emma grows up without her family,” Jefferson said as if reading out loud from a book. “Raised by the Church and trained by Reul Ghorm, she runs away when she turns eighteen. Strangely enough, she runs straight into you but of course you don’t know her. She goes by Emma Swann, and you haven’t spoken to anyone from Storybrooke in eighteen years. So, when you fall in love only to realize who she is, you panic and leave her, thinking it’s for the best.”

“Jefferson.”

“Of course, you have no idea she is pregnant with your son who she gives up, and in one of those quirks of fate is adopted by our very own Regina Mills, who is still mayor of Storybrooke. Problem is, she doesn’t speak to her stepdaughter or her husband anymore, too much bad blood since Emma was stolen away, which means Mary Margaret and David grow old with their grandson in their lives without ever realizing it.”

“Jefferson!” Neal exclaimed. “Stop. I get it. It’s not just Papa’s decisions, is it? It’s mine too.”

“You have to stop punishing him for the past. You may be immortal but your choices impact more than just you or him. Lacey thinks she is carrying the world on her back, your father feels like he has to make the right decision or risk everything and you act like there is nothing you can do. The three of you refuse to see the forest through the trees. It’s going to take all of us to get through this. All of us working together.”

Somewhere in this future, there was a boy who was fatherless. Loved and cared for by a woman who took him in, but still fatherless.

“It’s time to go,” Jefferson said quietly as he took Neal’s hand. “We have a lot of work to do.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To the original prompter , thank you for this fluffy prompt but all I could think about is the different ways the future of this fic could turn out and I had to do a time jump. So, I hope you enjoyed regardless.
> 
> Haven't had a Neal-centric in a while and I'm loving getting to amp up the Swannfire arc a bit. Plus, it was time to get Neal properly on board with things. Lacey and Rumple need their people around them and everyone's dealing with their own issues so the next few chapters is a lot of coming together so get ready for it.


	65. Chapter 65

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> David and DoDo are actually excited that they will one day become "in laws"

_Monday December 12, 2016_

The car heater was on full blast, and though Rumpelstiltskin did not actively feel the cold, David was still wearing eight layers and a hastily knit beanie on his head. He looked ridiculous, so of course, Rumpelstiltskin had taken two photos already and posted both on various social sites. One with a filter of a penguin at the beach because it seemed fitting.

“Hand me that bagel?” David asked as he waved at a pedestrian hurrying to get out of the cold. Rumpelstiltskin obliged. The streets were freshly salted but there were still patches of ice here and there. “Thanks,” David said as he crammed the bagel into his mouth.

Rumpelstiltskin took the opportunity to snap another photo of the police officer and wished he had gotten donuts instead. While he was tempted to summon some for the ‘gram, his stores of magic were already dangerously low. With the full moon tomorrow, it was probably best to save his last reserves.

The dashboard radio crackled to life, barely audible over the heat exhaust. “Sheriff?”

David grabbed the handheld device. “Go ahead.”

“Your ex-wife is here,” the dispatcher said slowly. “She says she wants to talk to you.”

“Kathryn?” David said incredulously. “Is she okay?”

“You...you better come back to the station.”

“Hang tight, I’ll be there quick as I can.” He hung up the device and turned to Rumpelstiltskin with an apologetic look. “Sorry. I know we planned on doing a drive around town today to make sure our friend doesn’t cause trouble but I need to take care of this. I’ll drop you off back at your apartment.”

“That’s ten minutes out of your way,” Rumpelstiltskin scoffed. “I’ll go with you to the station.”

David looked uncertain but he nodded and turned on the sirens.

\--

When they arrived at the station, Kathryn Fredrick, once Nolan and nee Midas, came hurrying over to them before they even made it through the door.

“Dad’s missing!” she cried. Her new husband joined them, shaking hands with David as he put his arm around Kathryn. She had tears on her cheeks and a frantic energy. Rumpelstiltskin's fingertips tingled at such raw desperation but he chose to ignore it.

“We were supposed to have dinner with him last night,” Jim explained to David. “You know, the monthly dinner at his estate.”

David’s jaw tightened. “I recall,” he said. There had been little love between son-in-law and father-in-law when David had been Kathryn’s husband. George Midas was a scrooge of a man, cold hearted and flinty, the only person he had ever loved was his daughter. He had taken some pleasure in passive aggressive comments and not too subtle reminders that his son-in-law was unemployed and unworthy of his daughter.

“I haven’t heard from him in a few days,” Kathryn added. “I thought he was busy with some new deal...he mentioned something big last time we talked in November. When he didn’t return my calls, I reached out to his secretary and she said he hasn’t been in the office in over a week.”

David looked sideways at Rumpelstiltskin at the word deal. He nodded so slightly, neither of the Fredricks even noticed. A man like Midas would be a very big fish for a demon in need of souls, he himself had eyed the man when he had first come to town but had never made a move.

“I’ll look into it,” David promised his ex-wife. “Let’s go into my office and see if we can determine some kind of timeline.”

“I’ll wait in the car,” Rumpelstiltskin said as the trio headed down the hall. David tossed a warning look over his shoulder, but it was unnecessary. Rumpelstiltskin had no plans to go into the lion’s den alone.

\--

An hour later, David slid back into the driver’s seat with a sigh. “Told Jim to take her home and make her get some sleep. She’s been up all night calling around to business contacts all over the world. Wherever Midas is, he’s not used his credit cards in the last four days.”

Rumpelstiltskin sighed. “Didn’t he land a rather lucrative business deal in the private sector last year?’

David nodded hesitantly. “Yea, Midas Industries beat out a bunch of other global companies for the job. Storybrooke made the New York Times and the Guardian, there’s clippings hanging up over at the factory.”

“He made a deal.”

David’s face fell as the pieces clicked into place. “That happened right around last Christmas.”

“I’m surprised the Old One waited a year to collect it,” Rumpelstiltskin sighed. “He must have assumed he could handle us with ease back at the Summer Solstice. He’s not taking any chances before tomorrow night.”

“Tomorrow’s not the solstice,” David pointed out.

“No, but it’s a super moon, the third in a row,” the demon sighed, wrinkling out the newspaper from their earlier coffee run to show David an article on it. “Lacey called to tell me she had to move Bellamy to our apartment.”

Lacey had been the closest to panicked he had heard her in a while. Her best friend had showed up at the apartment, barely able to speak and in the grips of early transformation signs. They had gotten her into the werewolf proof room with little time to spare though it left Bellamy an opportunity. Regina had come over to help watch the doppelgänger. They had all agreed it was best for him to stay away lest the Supreme Coven come knocking.

“He lives north of town,” David said as he moved the car into reverse. “I told Kathryn I’d check it out.”

“It’s possible that’s where he’s been staying,” Rumpelstiltskin said.

“He could have lived there for months without anyone noticing,” David replied. “Most of those rooms have never even been used.”

“David,” Rumpelstiltskin said slowly. “If the Old One is there…”

“We’ll leave,” David said firmly. “I have a wife and a daughter at home.”

Rumpelstiltskin did not bother trying to talk David out of going up to the estate. “Perhaps we should bring Jefferson,” he suggested. “A jumper might come in handy if something goes south quickly.”

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” David asked. “He’s kind of…”

“Insane, yes, but losing everyone you have ever loved tends to do that to somebody.”

David sighed. “Fine, where’s he at?”

“Up there on the corner,” Rumpelstiltskin said, pointing out the widely waving man just up ahead. A few people crossed the street to avoid Jefferson’s exuberance, the sight of the sheriff stopping confirming all their worst fears about the stranger.

“You’re late!” Jefferson admonished as he climbed into the backseat. “You were supposed to be here two and a half minutes ago.”

“Don’t look at me,” Rumpelstiltskin said with a shrug. “I didn’t call him.”

“Oh, you’re on a ride along!” Jefferson said brightly, looking around the cop car with some interest. “It’s just like one of those buddy cop movies Neal watches!”

“Speaking of Bae, how did your little trip go yesterday?” Rumpelstiltskin asked as David pulled back onto the street.

“Most illuminating,” Jefferson said with a grin. “He’s motivated now that he has something to fight for.”

“Oh?” David asked, clearly having no idea what was going on. “Where did you guys go?”

“Multiple future timelines,” Jefferson answered. “Including his wedding to your daughter.”

The car screeched to a halt.

David had twisted around in his seat. “What?” he demanded.

“Emma marries Neal,” Jefferson said with a grin to both of them. “In one timeline. In the other, they meet but due to a list of circumstances I would rather not go into, he ends up leaving her but not before he accidentally impregnates her.”

Rumpelstiltskin had to physically hold the already emotionally frayed father back from lunging across the seat to throttle Jefferson.

“It’s alright!” the jumper shouted as he scooted to the far side of the back seat. “He still loves her! He just doesn’t know she ends up in giving birth to their son while in prison!”

Outside on the street, people watched as their Sheriff’s patrol car began to rock violently where it was parked in the middle of the street, incoherent yelling coming from the vehicle.

\--

By the time they arrived at Midas estate, Jefferson had a black eye, David’s knuckles were bleeding and Rumpelstiltskin had a headache. They pulled through the large gates, emblazoned with the Midas crest, as David pulled up to the front door with practiced ease. He got out of the car, slamming the door behind him as he marched up the mansion's front steps.

“Just couldn’t help yourself, could you?” Rumpelstiltskin sighed as he followed.

Jefferson had the decency to look abashed. “I thought it was nice,” he said, shoulders hunched in dejection. “It did wonders for Neal.”

“Baelfire is an immortal who has been alone for his entire existence,” Rumpelstiltskin sighed. “In showing him a future where he has allowed himself an iota of happiness, you gave him hope.”

Jefferson made a rude noise. “Yes, well, I was trying to do the same for Sheriff Nolan.”

“You told him my immortal son knocks up his infant daughter who then goes to prison”,” Rumpelstiltskin hissed as they waited at the bottom of the stairs. David peered into the windows on either side of the grand door, before ringing the bell again. “His same child currently under threat by the Supreme Coven and the Church for being a rarity only seen in this world a few times in its entire existence.”

“They’re really quite a cute couple.”

“Jefferson,” Rumpelstiltskin sighed. “The point is, David is already on edge enough. Think if it was your daughter.”

It was the right and wrong thing to say. The jumper’s face lit up with understanding before clouding as grief returned. “Oh.”

That odd, recurring flicker of empathy dawned in Rumpelstiltskin's chest. “A hundred and twenty years to go,” he reminded Jefferson softly.

“Ten months, two weeks, five days and twelve hours and sixteen minutes,” Jefferson replied.

They did not often talk about it. Jefferson’s past...or his future if one looked at it that way. Born in the year 2102 to a halfbreed and a witch, Jefferson technically had not even been born yet, but he still remembered everything about the life he had lost. The madness from that and jumping back over four hundred years into the past had never quite faded from him.

Rumpelstiltskin could see things in the murky futures, Milah had taught him one or two tricks, but Jefferson had lived countless lives in that jump backwards. Though odd, there was always a steady canniness to the jumper. He knew everything, and yet trusted nothing, which made him an ideal partner for a demon.

“Our deal still stands,” Jefferson said as he watched David try the door handle.

Rumpelstiltskin shot him an annoyed look. “I hate when you do that,” he grumbled.

Jefferson turned to the right just as David hurried back down the stairs. “Let’s try the back entrance,” David said. He watched in puzzlement as Jefferson walked purposefully towards the edge of the house. “Where’s he going?”

“Back entrance, I suspect,” Rumpelstiltskin sighed. “After you.”

By the time he and David made it around the corner of the house, Jefferson disappeared inside. David muttered something furiously under his breath, drawing his gun as he hurried to catch up with him. Rumpelstiltskin simply shook his head and followed after the two fools. If it came to blow again, he’d let them kill each other this time.

George Midas’s home was opulent. Everything was gilded in gold, embossed with the crest of initials, and oil paintings of the family hung in the entrance hall where Jefferson stared up at it in interest.

“That’s Kathryn's mother, Abigail,” David told them. He had holstered his gun, satisfied there was no immediate danger. “Gold, everything good?”

“There’s no one else in the house.”

“Then, we’ll each take a floor. I’ll take the second, Gold you take the third, and Jefferson...you just...stay here.”

“I’ll check the wine cellar,” the jumper offered. “There’s always something interesting in basements.”

“Don’t touch anything!” David called after his retreating back.

“Don’t worry,” Rumpelstiltskin said as they headed up the stairs. “Looking for trap doors or hidden passageways will keep him busy.”

“There aren’t any trap doors or passageways,” David said. “George isn’t that creative.”

“Ah, but you never know.”

They parted ways at the second floor landing. David headed to check Midas’s rooms and study, while Rumpelstiltskin continued up to the third floor. While David had mentioned no staff lived at the Midas estate full time, there was something in the air as if the house was waiting for people to return.

The third floor had the nursery, and a room which looked like it must have been Kathryn’s once upon a time. This floor was less brassy, more of a rose gold, as if it had been designed by a softer eye. It took little time for the demon to check the floor. Nothing jumped out at him, so he moved to the fourth and final floor without David.

Jefferson was unsurprisingly waiting at the top of the stairs.

“Nothing in the basement?” Rumpelstiltskin asked as he joined him.

“Only one fake wall,” Jefferson sighed. “Looks like an expansion mistake. Barely worth the time. Here though…”

Jefferson released his grip on the finial at the top of the stair. The entire wall in front of them swung open soundlessly. Within seconds, Rumpelstiltskin's suspicions were confirmed. “David,” he called. “Fourth floor.”

Jefferson peered into the room as David joined them. He took the stairs two at a time and wasn’t even winded when he cleared the landing. For a mortal, he was full of surprises. “That’s new.”

“Hardly,” Jefferson said. “Looks like it was built in the early forties by the hinges here.”

“He’s been staying here,” Rumpelstiltskin said. He did not need to step into the room. Magic reeked out of it. “We should go before he returns.”

“We haven’t found Midas,” David protested.

“He’s not here,” Rumpelstiltskin said firmly. “His body will wash up on shore like the others soon enough.”

“You don't know that,” David said fiercely. “What if he needs our help?”

“If the Old One finds us here, he’ll strike,” Rumpelstiltskin said through gritted teeth. “We have no witches, no supplies, and no hope of winning. Forget your ex-father-in-law and think of your current family.”

A tic jumped in David’s jaw but he did not argue further.

\--

The car ride back to town was tense. Rumpelstiltskin pondered the realities of his situation while David continued to silently fume. Jefferson was mercifully quiet though he was humming some obnoxious tune over the sound of the heat.

“Is he dead?” David asked, breaking the silence. “Midas?”

“Probably,” Jefferson said from the back seat. “I get confused what timelines I’m in sometimes. Did you have a bagel or a donut for breakfast this morning?”

David did not reply, his fingers tightening on the wheel.

“He’s dead,” Rumpelstiltskin said softly. “The Old One is reaping souls for tomorrow.”

“Why would he even make a deal? He was rich, successful, had everything he could have wanted and he just threw it away for more,” David said viciously. “It’s asine that you- you-”

“Monsters?”

“Demons! Can just reap a soul like that, I thought there were rules!”

“More like guidelines,” Rumpelstiltskin replied. “Reaping souls early is bad for business. Plus, the souls are much weaker when forcibly taken. He must be more desperate than we assumed.”

David didn’t respond. He just stared straight out the window as his thoughts piled up on one another.

“I made a deal with a demon,” Jefferson shared unexpectedly. “The one sitting next you to be precise.”

David’s eyes cut to the rear view mirror.

“I lost something very important to me,” Jefferson continued. “So, I went back five hundred years into the past to get it back.”

“Five hundred years?”

“I’m from the future,” Jefferson said casually. He spun his top hat on his fingers between his knees. “I wanted to see my own future though and in the process, I lost my family. I came back to stop the person responsible.”

“The guy who killed your family in the future?”

“Aren’t you paying attention?” Jefferson asked with some annoyance. “Who said a guy killed my family?”

David did not slow down, but his eyes glanced to Rumpelstiltskin.

“His family was killed in an accident,” Rumpelstiltskin said quietly. “Jefferson’s attempts to save them from the future he saw ended up creating that very future.”

“Why not jump back to the accident?”

“Laws of time,” Jefferson said. “I took Neal into futures where we still both exist, so I had to jump us into a split second.”

“Uh.”

“Think of it as walking through a photograph,” Jefferson supplied helpfully. “Safer for multiple reasons, they key one is so a past, present or future self does not collide. Messy things happen, mostly terrible migraines but probably worse.”

“Are you understanding any of this?” David whispered to Rumpelstiltskin.

“Anyways, I had to go backwards and find out what caused it all in the first place. Problem is, I know they die now, and any future I try to go to, I just see ones without them. I was stuck. So, I went back.”

“Went back to what?”

“As far as I could go,” Jefferson replied. “Ended up in Japan under the Feudal Era. I spent some time in Australia and finally ended up in Europe during the French Revolution where I met my very first demon.”

“He was worse back then,” Rumpelstiltskin sighed. “Had to spring him out of a mental institution nearly every other week. Jefferson here somehow got on the wrong side of Robespierre and was guillotined.”

“Guillotined?”

“Oh, yes,” Rumpelstiltskin sighed. “Made a deal with me to save his life, and so the blade just bounced off his neck a couple times.” Jefferson leaned forward to show off the faint scars around his neck. “Trouble was, I hadn’t realized he was a halfbreed and thus had no soul to deal with.”

Jefferson smiled broadly. “One of my better cons,” he said with a proud shrug.

“I was going to kill him, but he was from the future, and had a unique sense of skill sets so I agreed to let him work for me to pay off his debt.”

“We lost touch when our mutual friend here went to ground after some witch debacle in the Victorian Era. I didn’t see him again until World War II.”

David lifted a hand. “So, you’re not just a halfbreed who can come and go from time and place as you like, but you’re also from the future?”

Jefferson nodded.

“So, you don’t age either?”

“Slower than most,” Jefferson corrected. “I’m out of my time stream though, so I don’t age at all currently. One more of the many reasons I came backwards.”

David shook his head. “So, if you’re soulless, you didn’t make an actual deal.”

“Not a soul deal, no,” Jefferson said encouragingly. “However, once I am born in the year 2102, I will begin to age.”

“Which is where our current deal comes to play.”

Jefferson nodded. “In exchange for my assistance in securing the items needed to defeat the Old One, I get the one thing I need most if I am to reunite with my family.”

“And what’s that?”

“A soul.”

Utter silence fell in the car.

“It’s never been attempted before,” Rumpelstiltskin said softly. “Securing a soul for a halfbreed.”

“I thought mortal souls didn’t have magic.”

“Your soul does actually,” Rumpelstiltskin said as they passed the sign welcoming them back into Storybrooke. “You don’t have a way to use it though. Demon's souls have been ripped from their bodies creating a conduit to channel magic. Witches are born with that conduit so they are able to use their own souls magic which is replenishable. By reaping mortal souls, demons are able to use the souls magic as their own.”

“It’s like using store bought vegetables instead of growing them for free,” Jefferson added. “Still works if not quite the same.”

Lacey had explained some of this to the Nolans when they had discovered the threat to Emma and David seemed to be following now.

“So, if Jefferson acquires a soul, he will no longer be able to jump.”

“You don’t want the soul for yourself,” David said slowly. “You want it for your future self.”

Jefferson beamed at him in the rearview mirror. “Excellent deduction. Yes, by instilling a soul into my newborn self, growing up with no powers, I will never be tempted by hubris to jump into the future, see my bleak future, and then return only to cause it. I will live one day to the next. Perhaps I will still meet my Priscilla, hold my Grace in my arms or perhaps I will find a new fate but in that case, I will not be the cause of theirs.”

It had been a hell of a deal, but desperate times had called for desperate measures. Besides, if everything went according to plan, Rumpelstiltskin had a hundred years to figure something out and if things went wrong, he was off the hook.

“This is my stop,” Jefferson announced cheerfully. He barely waited for David to stop the car before opening the door. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” he said with a wave.

“It’s fifteen degrees out,” David said as he watched Jefferson stroll towards the docks.

“He’ll be jumping somewhere and doesn’t want us to see,” Rumpelstiltskin said, waving David on. “You need to call your ex-wife and I need to get back to the apartment to help with the doppelganger.”

At this, David grew serious. “Speaking of, want that - that - copycat out of town,” he said vehemently. “Mary Margaret isn’t sleeping well as it is and now she thinks someone’s going to steal Emma out from underneath us, she’s barely sleeping at all.”

“Let’s see how tomorrow plays out,” Rumpelstiltskin suggested. “If we’re still standing come Wednesday, we’ll go to the Church and Supreme Coven and demand they leave the child alone.”

“That’s not good enough,” David sighed, rubbing angrily at the scruff on his chin.

“She is my goddaughter, David,” Rumpelstiltskin said, ice in his voice. “Do not mistake my rationality for apathy. If anyone dares touch a hair on that child’s head without your express permission, her godmother and I will go to the ends of the earth to ensure it does not happen again. Right now, she is safe. The wards on the house are the strongest in all of North America and the Coven and the Church are not so blind to not realize we are on to them. Their gambit failed.”

There was silence for a moment.

“Neal and Emma?” David said finally.

Rumpelstiltskin sighed. “Maybe don’t say anything to Mary Margaret.”

“He’s...he’s so much older than her.”

Rumpelstiltskin looked at him from the corner of his eye. “Give or take a few centuries.”

“We’d be...related.”

“In-laws,” Rumpelstiltskin said with a nod. “Can you imagine?”

David twisted his mouth and gave a small shrug. “Wouldn’t be that bad, I guess. It’d take me a few years to be okay with it but I have a few decades right?”

“Two at the least.”

He nodded. “Alright. I’ll just lock her in her room until she’s eighteen, then I might let her go to college but she isn’t dating until she gets married.”

“Fair enough.”

They drove back, and though neither of them spoke until they arrived at the apartment. Both of them were imaging futures where their child was loved and happy while they could spend time relaxing without worrying about demons or solstices or the Church.

Lacey was waiting for them outside. “Jefferson called,” she said as Rumpelstiltskin and David got out of the car. “It’s Bellamy.” Her eyes cut to David. “She wants to make a deal.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shoutout to MademoiselleDearie for asking some great questions last chapter. I answer most questions in comments, so if you ever feel like reading through those you can see some of my thinking, but she asked about the deal Jefferson made with Rumple back when we met him, and it reminded me I still hadn't told you guys!
> 
> So, yes, Jefferson is from the future, trying to figure out how to get a soul. 
> 
> I liked the idea of the prompt, but I couldn't help but picture David's various reactions. Give him some time to come around. 
> 
> Next chapter is a big one! It's the Cold Moon which was the third supermoon in a row this year (November being the one closest to the earth in years which as Ruby said a few chapters ago was a real bitch) and the perfect time for an attack before the Winter Solstice. Also, it's the 20th anniversary of Colette's death so...


	66. Chapter 66

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is Colette really dead, or did she have to fake her death to cover the fact she didn't age? If she is dead, was it really a car accident?

_Friday, December 13th, 1996_

Waking up that morning was a struggle. The alarm clock went off four times before a grumpy voice came from the other side of the bed. “What’s with the five alarms?”

“Nothing, nothing,” she sighed as she finally gave up on trying to sleep in a bit longer. With reluctance, she pushed off the covers and the morning winter chill washed over her. Her skin pebbled as she made her way to the bathroom as quickly as possible.

She yawned all throughout her shower. Water got in her mouth and soups suds stung her eyes but by the time she emerged from the bathroom, dressed and ready to go, it was only a quarter to seven.

In the kitchen, he already had breakfast waiting. He slid a plate of pancakes across the table as she entered. “How late did you stay up last night?” he asked as he turned back to the stove.

“Not too late,” she lied. In fact, she hadn’t gone to bed until nearly three and nightmares had chased her all night long. Nightmares she had not had in years. If today wasn’t important, she would have stayed in bed all day.

“You going to go wake her up, or should I?” he asked her, gesturing towards the lump on the couch.

“She fell asleep watching a movie. I didn’t want to wake her.”

“Better get her up,” he said with a shake of his head. “She’ll be late.”

She winked at him as she slipped a slice of bacon off the plate beside the pancakes. “Let her sleep,” she suggested, leaning over the counter towards him. “Maybe we can go back to bed for a bit…”

“Mama?”

The nest of blankets had stirred to life. Belle’s sleepy head popped over the back of the couch. “What time is it?”

“Time for school,” Maurice said, waving a spatula at his daughter. “Go on, shower’s free.”

She stood but kept the nest of blankets clutched around her as she peered at the timer over the stove. “It’s not even eight yet,” she complained, but brightened as she saw the pancakes and bacon waiting for her. “Thanks Papa!”

“Eat and then you better hurry,” he said, but Colette noticed the pleased look on his face. “I can take you to school on my way to work this morning.”

“Really?” Belle said. “That’d be great!”

Colette and Maurice shared a look as she busied herself with the syrup. Belle’s principal had called the day before to tell them she was having some problems with a sophomore on her bus. Apparently, the girl had fallen off the bus the day before and while Belle had sworn she hadn’t pushed her, the principal felt it best if Belle didn’t take the bus for a few days.

Maurice thought nothing of it. “Girls will be girls,” he had said as Colette fretted over it. Of course, why would he? He didn’t know about magic, or witches or anything else for that matter. She had kept it all from him.

Belle would be fifteen at the end of the month. Her magic had been steadily increasing in small ways. Even now, the kitchen was warming rapidly, and while beads of sweat popped up on Maurice’s brow, he just turned down the stove heat.

Magic floated about her daughter. It hung in the air when she moved and when she sat still for too long it fell away from her like leaves on a tree. Thankfully, mortals did not notice these things. Maurice had lived with two witches for nearly fifteen years and had never once questioned any of the odd things that happened around the house. Or if they did, they often lashed out, afraid of what they did not understand, which is what Colette suspected Belle’s current feud stemmed from.

She’d have to float the idea of getting Belle her own car. They didn’t have the money for it, but if Colette went to her private account...pretended like she won some small lotto or a giveaway at work...maybe it was even time to think about home schooling.

“My beauty,” her husband murmured as Belle disappeared upstairs to get ready. “What is it? You’re miles away.”

She gripped his hand in her’s and squeezed. “Sorry, my dear,” she replied. “I was just thinking about what we’re going to do about this whole bus thing.”

Her husband was a good man, a kind man, and despite his size, a gentle man. He thought about it for a moment. “Maybe we can get her a car,” he said after a moment. “I have some money saved up for her college fund but she might like this better and there’s still three years before she goes off.”

Colette’s heart warmed near to bursting. “I love you,” she replied, touching a gentle hand to his cheek. “So much.”

He smiled tenderly back at her. “Anything for my girls. Now, you better get going too, or you’ll be late.”

“Let me just say goodbye to Belle,” Colette said as she picked up her purse from the kitchen table. She made her way upstairs to find Belle unhappily poking at a large zit that had appeared on her chin overnight. “Don’t touch it. You’ll make it worse.”

“It’s hideous,” Belle groaned, wiggling her nose in irritation. “Emily says-”

“Trust me,” Colette said with a wink. “It’ll go away.” She wouldn’t be surprised if it was gone by lunchtime. Teenage hormones were nothing in the face of raw magic. “Now, I have to go but remember, not a word to your father about our little secret.”

Belle smiled. “He’s going to wonder why we aren’t bugging him to watch it.”

“Well, we’ll just watch it again,” Colette said fondly. “I could watch that movie a million times and never get tired of it.”

It was true. She had seen it opening day in 1946 in New York City and fell in love with it. There had been a huge blizzard the year after that, and as the city shut down, she had broke into a closed movie theatre and with the help of a little magic, had a solo screening. It had become her very own Christmas tradition, no matter who she was or where she was, she watched _It’s a Wonderful Life_ at least once in December.

There was something about it that was magic in it’s own way, something that spoke to her and her daughter in ways Maurice never quite heard though he tried to love the movie as much as them for their sake.

“Give me a kiss,” Colette said as her daughter flung herself into her arms. In another year or so, she might start to pull away, start to grow up and mature just like every other girl did but in these small moments, Colette let herself relax.

“Love you,” Belle said as they broke apart. “Oh! I almost forgot, Emily and some of the girls wanted to do a sleepover tonight. Can I go?”

“No,” Colette said firmly. At the look of confusion on her daughter’s face, she hurried to smile. “Tonight’s not a good night.”

“But-!”

“Maybe another time,” Colette said. “Have a good day at school.”

Before Belle could protest further, Colette had already turned and fled back down the stairs. Maurice was washing the dishes, and turned at the sound of her heels clicking. His smile faded when he saw her expression. “What’s the matter, my beauty?”

“Belle asked to sleep over at a friend’s house,” Colette said as she fastened her coat’s buttons. “I said no.”

He looked puzzled. “Do we have plans tonight?”

No. They never had any plans on Friday the 13th because Colette made sure of it. “No,” she said with a forced smile. “Just with this whole bus debacle, I think it’s best if she stays home tonight at the very least.”

“Then, I won’t let her sweet talk me into letting her go,” he said, pressing a kiss to her cheek. “Have a good day at work honey. Knock them dead.”

Colette French would not make it to work. An icy patch on the road would ensure her secret died with her.

It would be another eighteen years until her daughter found out the truth.

\--

_Tuesday, December 13, 2016_

Upstairs, the growling grew steadily louder. Bellamy glanced upwards. Though they did not betray any emotion, they appeared more nervous than Lacey had seen them since their memory had returned.

“Tea?” Archie offered them as he came back from the kitchen. The doppelgänger nodded politely and took the offered cup from him. “Lacey?”

She shook her head. Archie had a full house tonight, though no one was saying much. Neal and his father were standing by the mantle, watching the clock. Cruella flipped through a magazine in bored disinterest while Jefferson sat unusually still as if he was sleeping with his eyes open.

Victor sat on the stairs. He did not want to be there, but Lacey had insisted. Ruby might trust the zombie doctor turned mortician but tonight, Lacey wanted to make sure she had thought of everything.

The super moon hung heavy outside, large enough to take up a quarter of the sky when it had rose earlier that evening. Now, it was a quarter to midnight, and still the town was quiet.

“Do you think he’ll strike tonight?” Archie whispered to her as he joined her on the sofa.

“Yea,” she said tensely.

Regina was with the Nolans at the Victorian. The wards remained undisturbed there as well as here, but with the Supreme Coven in town and Reul breathing down their necks, Lacey did not know what to expect.

“Regardless,” Bellamy interjected, breaking the silence. “You promised to release me to Supreme Coven tomorrow per our deal.”

“And we will,” Lacey grumbled. “Can we get through tonight first?”

Bellamy returned to their tea.

Cruella dropped her magazine back to the table. “The doppelgänger has a point,” she said with a yawn. “What’s the point of waiting around for nothing?”

“It’s not nothing, Cruella,” Rumpelstiltskin said firmly. “Feel free to leave but if you are kidnapped or killed by the Old One, none of us will bargain for your life.”

Neal shot his father a look. “Auntie, please stay here with us for just a little longer. You can return to New York in the morning.”

“And miss Ursula's face when you bring this little joy back to the fold?” Cruella laughed. “Not on your life.”

“You know Ursula?” Bellamy asked.

“Don’t look so surprised. Me and Ursula go way back,” Cruella said with a wink. “Why, she was my first witch.”

“Anyway,” Neal said loudly. “We have another seven hours before the sun rises. That doesn’t mean we all have to sit here and stare at each other.”

“No board games,” Lacey grumbled.

Jefferson stood. “He’s here.”

A silence fell back over the room and even Ruby upstairs whined for a moment before going silent. Victor stood as if he too could feel it.

“Where?”

Pongo remained curled up under the kitchen table but he gave a short bark of warning just as the back window shattered.

Lacey flung a hand out, and the glass froze in midair. Victor hurried forward, grabbing Archie. “Come on, pal,” he grumbled. “Time to get out of the line of fire.” Pongo hurried after them, tail tucked beneath his legs as he followed them up the stairs.

“Come, come,” Cruella said, taking Bellamy’s arm forcibly. “You too dear. You’re worth more alive than dead and I have no interest in being killed tonight. We’ll go with the good doctors.”

Jefferson, Neal and Rumple joined her in front of the shattered window. With a twist of her wrist, Lacey sent the shards of glass flying back outside but they fell harmlessly to the grass as if they hit an invisible wall.

Bozo stood in the yard a mere few feet away from the house with a twisted smile on his gruesome face. “Time flies...have you missed me?”

Lacey held up the dagger. “I did last time we met, but I have a good feeling about this time.”

He laughed. “Is that Rumpelstiltskin's dagger? Well, my old friend, this is surprising!”

Lacey began the chant. The one Rumple had taught her last night, the one that he had heard in his darkest hour, the moment his soul had been ripped from his body. Using their physical connection, Lacey would channel the spell through the demon to pinpoint the dagger that had created him.

“Ah,” Bozo said as her voice grew louder. “You’ve taught her my little parlor trick. Did you tell her what happens when a witch does demonic magic?”

Lacey ignored him, and continued the chant. Rumple’s fingers tightened over her own.

“Your mother found out about it the hard way I’m afraid.”

The magic died as Lacey dropped the dagger back down to her side. “What did you just say?”

“Your mother,” Bozo replied a little louder. “You see, I knew her. Haven’t I mentioned that?”

“He’s lying,” Neal said from her. “Ignore him.”

“He’s not,” Jefferson said in some confusion. “At least, I don’t think he is.”

Rumple stayed quiet beside her. He slipped his hand over her hand clutching the dagger as if to reassure them both. “It’s okay,” he said to her. “We’re right behind you.”

Lacey tried to start the chant again, but her mother’s face refused to leave her. It had been with her all day, faint memories haunting her even as she tried to focus at the dangers at hand.

“She died twenty years ago,” Rumple reminded her. “He was banished, locked away from even his own kind. He couldn’t have had anything to do with it.”

“True, true,” Bozo said with a nod. “I did not get the pleasure of seeing her death but I do know a thing or two about Colette Frances O’Connor.”

Lacey’s breath hitched in her throat and the magic once more subsided. The rest of the world fell away as cold winter air blew in through the open window. “How?” she demanded.

“Funny you ask,” he said with a black sneer. “She too got it into her head that destroying me was worth destroying herself.”

The dagger was heavy in her hand.

“She saw something...something that terrified her into ripping apart her own soul by daring to speak my own spells against me. She used blood magic to banish me and in the process made certain she could never do another spell in her life. Haven’t you wondered why you never knew she was a witch?”

The dagger dropped to the floor. Before it had even stilled, magic hurtled it forward into the yard. Neal rushed to grab it, his fingers just barely clutching around the wicked blade. The spell was too powerful, and Neal was jerked off his feet. Jefferson lunged for Neal’s leg and the two of them disappeared into thin air with the dagger.

Bozo scowled. “Worth a try,” he said with a shrug. “Where were we? Ah, yes, your mother used her own blood and soul to ensure mine would be trapped below this world forever. Do you know how many laws she broke in the process?”

Lacey shook her head but the ringing in her ears wouldn’t stop.

“Fourteen,” he hissed. “There should have been a war but no one knew what she had done. I was locked away from even the merest of daemons, alone for nearly one hundred years until…”

“Until I freed you,” Lacey whispered.

“Blood tells,” he replied. “Imagine my surprise to find Colette had a daughter! A witch completely ignorant of her history….if I had not been so depleted after a century without reaping souls, I would have relished killing you that very night. Just for the look on your face...of confused terror… You do look like her. Has anyone ever told you that?”

“I am nothing like my mother.”

“Oh, you’re right about that,” he said with a chuckle. “Colette O’Connor only cared about herself. I asked her you see, why she was risking everything. Do you know what she said?”

“Stop it!”

“She had seen something...something that scared her so badly she went to the ends of the world to ensure it never happened.”

“And she did!”

He hissed. “She caused it! She saw the end of days, demons running the world, the Church burned away and the witches powerless. She saw my victory but she misunderstood who it was over. She thought it was her.”

‘You do look like your mother’ echoed through her ears.

“No…”

“Lacey,” Rumpelstiltskin pulled at her elbow. “We have to go,” he insisted. “We need to get out of here.”

She shook him off. “You’re saying my mother banished you to the depths of hell as the cost of her own soul? Well, I won’t make that mistake. I am going to destroy you, tear down everything you stand for pillar by pillar! To hell with the laws!”

Clouds passed over the super moon and the backyard grew dark. The Old One had not moved to strike.

Why?

Lacey turned to Rumpelstiltskin. “He hasn’t attacked.”

“ I don’t need to,” the Old One replied. “I just need to wait out the wards. They’re fraying already. Old Rumpelstiltskin here has overplayed his hand.”

Lacey was lost. “What is he talking about, Rumple?”

He looked miserable. “Lacey, I- I’m powerless. I spent the last reserves I had warding this house from him. I used the last of his blood from the Summer Solstice to strengthen it but it’s not going to last the night.”

“But-but we had a plan.”

“To use my dagger to find his,” he said, his eyes flickering out to where the Old One lingered in the shadows. “To channel your magic through me...you’ve been doing it for weeks now without realizing...I didn’t want to worry you.”

Lacey gaped at him. “You haven’t been making deals…” she realized. “I should have...I should have known...I was so busy with…”

“With saving the world,” he said with a fond smile. “We are safe here in this house for now, but I can’t protect you if you don’t trust me.”

“You weren’t honest with me!”

“I did this for you!” he shouted back. “I have not reaped a soul since the day I met you, Lacey French. I stopped feeling the need, the temptation to make a deal, the moment I met you and I thought it was because I was about to get my hands on a witch’s soul at long last but that’s not why! It’s because you made me feel whole for the first time in centuries.”

“You idiot,” Lacey replied. “You could have been killed tonight. You should have told me.”

“What is this? _Happy Endings_?” The Old One spat outside. “You have nothing. No dagger, no blood, no hope!”

“You have me,” Rumple whispered to her. His hands clasping her own between them.

“And you have me,” she replied with a faint smile. “Even when you’re being impossible.”

Between them, their hands began to glow. It was a soft light….almost white but tinged with reds, blues, and purples where the colors mixed. The light was warm, spreading though Lacey’s whole body like whiskey on a cold night.

Everything else faded away. It did not disappear, but it simply became less important than the demon before her. His golden eyes flickered with brown, his curls blowing gently about his face as he leaned towards her.

When their lips met, the world around them went silent. Everything hung frozen for a moment before it came rushing back like a tidal wave crashing over them. When they pulled apart, Jefferson and Neal reappeared to clatter to the floor just in front of the window. Neal yelled out in pain as Rumpelstiltskin hurried to his son’s side.

“Papa,” Neal said with a wince. “The spell!”

He pressed the blooded weapon into his father’s hand. Lacey hurried towards him but the Old One had enough it seemed. A gust of air burst through the window, and Lacey fell backwards into the wall. She struggled to free herself but the gale kept her own wrists locked down, and she was unable to move a muscle in her own defense.

“Lacey!” Rumple cried but he had to dodge another gale wind. Jefferson was not so lucky and went flying backwards into the kitchen. The clatter and clanging of pots echoed over the still surging winds.

“This ends here!” the Old One snarled.

The glass shards levitated back up from the grass and in a razor fast whip of his forearm, the Old One sent them back through the window to impale them all.

Except...they didn’t.

Rumpelstiltskin had lifted his hand, an instinct of a creature who had always had magic at his beck and call, and to all their surprise, the glass melted away like rain. Lacey collapsed to her knees as the wind stopped abruptly, coughing wretchedly as she finally was able to breath without the pressure on her chest.

“No!” the Old One exclaimed. “How? You were powerless!”

Rumpelstiltskin looked down at his own hand in wonder. He glanced back at her, and Lacey shook her head in equal confusion. She flicked her middle finger to the left, and a ball of fire burned to life at its tip.

Jefferson crawled out of the kitchen, and Neal made his way to his feet, still clutching his bloody hand. “Papa? What’s going on?”

The Old One tried to take advantage of their confusion. He made one last play for the dagger clutched in Neal’s good hand, but before he could even finish his movement, Rumpelstiltskin had his hand outstretched in a chokehold and the Old One was flung backwards into the fence.

Neal did not hesitate. He thrust the dagger into his father’s grip and stood backwards. Jefferson hurried to Lacey’s side to help her off the floor but she could not look away from Rumple.

The blood burned away from the dagger as Rumpelstiltskin began the chant. His voice changed as he spoke. It was not the giggling voice of his demon ways, nor the steady slightly accented voice he spoke as Gold. It was not even the unaccented, low voice he usually spoke in but a deep booming baritone that echoed and rang out like the clock tower's bells.

The Old One collapsed in a heap at the bottom of the fence just as the super moon appeared behind the clouds. The large white light cast everything into illumination and there on the Old One’s chest, a single red flame began to grow.

“In his robes!” Neal cried out and Jefferson nodded. The next second he was gone from her side, reappearing out in the yard, and in a move so quick, she almost did not see it, he plunged his hands into the Old One’s robes.

Before Lacey could cry out for him to hurry, he was back and clutching a long black dagger still burning red with magic.

“Lacey!” Rumple cried but she had already seized it.

“Wait!” Neal cried, throwing up his arm. “He’s gone!”

Clouds hurtled back over the moon and upstairs Ruby howled. The backyard was empty once more. A tingling along her palms confirmed this. “He’s crossed back into the Dark Realm,” she said, flexing her fingers. “It’s over.”

The blade in her hands was a duplicate of Rumpelstiltskin's but where his name took up the entire dagger, this short name of Zoso was centered in the middle of the blade in wicked slashes.

Neal’s hiss of pain drew their attention back to aftermath of the tussle.

“Victor!” Lacey called up the stairs. “Victor, we need a doctor!”

By two in the morning, things had calmed back down. Rumpelstiltskin sat beside his son as Victor carefully continued to stitch up the split flesh. Cruella had opted to stay upstairs in the guest room while Archie was scrubbing at the blood stains on the floor.

Lacey stood by the mantle. She held two demon’s daggers in either hand, replaying the night’s occurrences over and over again. She almost did not notice Bellamy had joined her until the doppelgänger spoke.

“Tomorrow will not be any easier.”

Taken aback, Lacey laughed. “We just got his dagger. He fled to the other realm and we’re the closest we have ever been to ending this once and for all. The Supreme Coven and Church have nothing on us now.”

It was Bellamy’s turn to laugh. “You have no idea what happened tonight do you?”

The room quieted as everyone turned to hear this conversation. Lacey, tired and worn from an already exhausted day, snapped. “A demon taunted me about my dead mother, who by the way, died twenty years ago today. He, the thing I hate most in this world, is the only person beside my emotionally crippled father who can even tell me anything about my mother and he tried to make her into a monster.”

“No!” Bellamy exclaimed, jabbing a finger into Lacey’s chest. “You gave your heart to a demon and in doing so broke the entire Law of Three asunder. You did the very thing we were trying to prevent!”

“What? Save everyone’s ass?”

“You gave your soul to a demon!”

Lacey found Rumpelstiltskin's eyes in the silence. “I didn’t...did I?”

He shook his head. “You’d be dead. Even if you willingly gave it, you’d be dead.”

Lacey shifted the daggers to the mantle and clicked her fingers. All the lights flickered throughout the house and upstairs, Ruby howled again. Pongo whined in protest, burying himself deeper under the coffee table. If she could still do magic, she still had her soul.

Bellamy’s eyes never left Lacey’s face. “She gave you her heart,” Bellamy said. “Completely and utterly with no reservations or doubts. A witch’s soul is tied directly to her heart, it is why they out of all of us can do magic. After four centuries of trying, you’ve done it, Rumpelstiltskin. You’ve finally got a witch’s soul. There’s no end to your powers.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :D
> 
> Oh man, this chapter was a doozy but we are officially close to the end. 
> 
> So, ever since I started the whole witch/demon arc - I knew this was coming. After all, Rumple has been trying to get a witch's soul for ultimate power for ages and when he finally stops trying,when he is willing to give up everything to just be with Lacey, she gives him her heart and soul and in doing so the power to stop Bozo once and for all.
> 
> So Bozo is running scared but next time, the Coven & the Church are going to have their say on what's been going down in Storybrooke....
> 
> NINE CHAPTERS TO GO.


	67. Chapter 67

_Wednesday, December 14th, 2016_

It was one week till the Winter Solstice and for the first time since that fateful Halloween night two years ago, Lacey wasn’t worried in the slightest. Besides her, Rumple hummed a few notes under his breath. It sounded suspiciously like a Christmas carol.

“What’s with them?” Bellamy asked Cruella as they trudged up the drive to the Covenant behind the couple.

“I believe they’re walking on air,” Cruella replied. “Disgusting.”

Regina did not disagree. “Can we hurry this up?” she asked from the rear.

The two witches, two halfbreeds and demon were already late for the meeting. So by the time they arrived at the front door, a nervous nun hurried down the stairs to meet them.

“Hello!” Astrid greeted them breathlessly. “I’m Sister Astrid, if you’ll just follow me?”

Leading them around the building, Astrid headed straight towards a white chapel set just behind the large convent. Lacey stopped dead in her tracks. “The meeting’s in an actual church? Are they serious?”

“It is customary to have any large meetings in the chapel,” Astrid started nervously. “I believe our other guests are already waiting with the Mother Superior.”

“We can take it from here,” Rumple said with a nod. He had worn his glamour but only upon Lacey’s insistence.

“Thank you, Astrid,” Lacey said kindly. The nun bobbed her head nervously but she gave her a quick fond smile before hurrying back to the safety of the covenant. “Shall we?”

The chapel was small but airy with cream walls and brightly colored stained glass windows set every few feet. The altar was raised a foot off the ground with a large crucifix hanging over it between two large bay stained glass windows. The floor was awash with the colors and as their group entered, the rainbow played over them as well.

Rumple dropped his glamour as soon as he crossed the threshold. He stood in full demonic regalia, with spikes on his jacket’s shoulders, leather pants and thigh high boots with laces all the way up the front.

Lacey did not feel outdone in the slightest. She shed her own jacket to reveal a navy blue leather and velvet dress that flared out into bell sleeves at her wrist. Her knee high boots were not as impressive as her lover’s but they clicked across the spotless wooden floor to echo around them. Dress to impress, Regina had said, the mayor in a blood red pant suit with black accents and a pair of Louboutins that Lacey already planned on borrowing at first opportunity.

Ahead of them, three women stood just under the altar. One was dark skinned with hair falling gracefully to her shoulders in a riot of curls. The second was as white as snow, with platinum blonde hair piled into a bun at the back of her head while the third had frizzy hair piled up haphazardly. Her milky white eyes tracked their group as if she could see them regardless.

Lacey ignored them all. “Reul,” she said to the nun standing on the altar. “You going to come down from your high horse or do you plan on speaking to us from on high today?”

“Why, she’s worse than you, Regina,” the first witch said with a twitch of her lips. “I hadn’t thought that possible.”

“Ursula, darling!” Cruella proclaimed, elbowing both Regina and Lacey out of the way.

A flicker of surprise crossed the witch’s face at the sight of Cruella but she recovered quickly. The two embraced perfunctorily, and Cruella pressed two air kisses to the senior witch’s cheeks before stepping back with a wink. “My, my,” dear,” she murmured, glancing up at Reul. “The company you keep these days.”

“Desperate times, Cruella.”

The socialite snorted. “Why, haven’t you heard? There’s no need for all this nonsense anymore. The witch has given her soul to the demon.”

Four voices exclaimed in outrage and for a moment, the eaves of the chapel rung with magical fury.

“Do you see?” Reul said when the initial noise din abated. “I warned you!”

“Is this true?” the middle witch demanded of Lacey.

“Ingrid?” Lacey guessed. Regina had given her a quick lesson on the Supreme Coven this morning after she had returned from the Nolans. She had explained the workings of the court, the current members and the reason why after the events of last night they were in deep shit.

“Protector of the Realms,” Ingrid corrected her with frost in her voice. “Which you would have known if you had applied to be a Guardian of the Realm instead of just taking it into your own hands.”

“Okay, well that was Mal’s idea,” Lacey said with a shrug. “Besides, it was my understanding you needed more Guardians.”

“Not like you,” Ingrid replied.

“Enough,” Ursula demanded. “Elle, did you foresee this?”

“No,” the Seer said, cocking her head at Lacey. She was tempted to take a step to the right but she had a feeling the seer who just follow her with those unseeing eyes. “However, it is true. The demon is in possession of a witch’s soul...his powers are….boundless.”

“Then, this meeting is moot,” Ursula declared. “Belle Larissa French-”

“Larissa?” Regina chuckled. “Kept that quiet, didn’t you?”

“You have broken the Laws of the Three thrice. You have summoned forth a demon from the other realm. You then did so again. Now, you have committed the ultimate taboo of selling your soul to a demon.”

“But I didn’t.”

“How dare you?” Reul hissed as she stepped down from the altar. She marched straight up to Lacey until the two of them were nose to nose. “I have watched over this world for two centuries and I have seen witches like you. Heedless, feckless greedy things that were no better than the things they swore to protect against. I had thought I had seen the worst of witch kind when Cora Mills walked this earth but I see now I was woefully mistaken.”

Regina tensed beside them. “My mother was a visionary. It was short sighted creatures like you that drove her to action!”

“Your mother was a traitor,” Ingrid said. “She sold her own soul in her quest for power and look where it got her.”

“Sound familiar, Reul?” Lacey asked with a smirk.

The nun’s eyes narrowed in rage but Rumple gently pulled Lacey away from the nun as he spoke to the coven. “Ladies of the Coven, greetings.”

“You will not sweet talk us into leniency, demon,” Elle warned him. “You think just because you hold a witch’s soul you are untouchable?”

He shrugged. “I’ll admit I’ll sleep better tonight.”

Cruella was sprawled across the front pew, watching all of this in avid interest as if she was at a tennis match. Bellamy stayed silent at the rear. When Lacey glanced back at them, they were standing just shy of the third pew. A slash of green played over their face, playing up the angles of their true face.

“Are you going to just stand there?” Lacey asked them. “Or are you going to help?”

Bellamy rolled their eyes but stepped forward. “The witch gave her heart to the demon without limitations or doubts. Her soul was given without ill intention.” Lacey nodded smugly. “But that does not excuse the fact that she did give her soul. By the Law of the Three, her life is now forfeit.”

“Hey!” Lacey said in surprise, whirling around to Bellamy. “Fuck you very much!”

The halfbreed glared at her. “None of this is my concern! Halfbreeds like myself live outside the rules of your petty little sects.”

“You were hired to do a job, Bellamy,” Elle interrupted. “Tell us, what happened with the child of True Love’s Get?’

“You will keep your goddamn hands off her!” Lacey snarled. “That’s what!”

Regina was a bit more calm about it. “My granddaughter is under my protection,” Regina said smoothly.

“Regina. You are here supporting a witch and a demon’s unholy union,” Ingrid pointed out. “Do you think you are free from consequences?”

Regina shook her head. “I am not here for either of them. I’m here to return the doppelgänger. In return for sparing their life, Bellamy has promised to not return to Storybrooke or harm the child.”

That was technically the deal but Regina had spun it so that she looked like it had nothing to do whatsoever with Lacey or Rumpelstiltskin.

“Are you kidding me?” Lacey hissed at her.

Regina glared at her. “You got yourself into this mess,” she whispered under her voice. “I have no interest in being dragged down with you!”

“Son of a bitch,” Lacey breathed. “You double crossing-”

“Enough.” Ursula declared. “Regina Mills, you have skated on the edges of decency and flirted with breaking every one of our laws, but one day, you will stand before us and there will be no where left to go.”

“Until then,” Regina said with a cold grin. “Ladies.” She swept past Reul and Bellamy and with a flick of her wrists, the doors banged open as she swept out into the cold winter air.

Ingrid pulled the doors closed with her own magic and a rueful shake of her head. “Bellamy, are you retracting your services?”

The doppelgänger nodded.

“Then, you are free to go. Remember though, the Coven does not forget.”

“Your memories are only as long as your reign,” Bellamy said with a half bow. “Do not forget that either.”

Cruella clapped. “Masterfully done,” she exclaimed as Bellamy too turned to exit.

“Cruella, if you do not stop talking, I will be forced to remove you from the grounds,” Ursula warned her.

“Why, you wouldn’t dare,” Cruella said with a wink. “But fine, fine, I’ll behave. I want to see what happens next.”

Lacey’s magic burned and sparked as she tried to remain calm. Rumple took her hand in his, flipped it over and deposited a kiss to the back of her hand before the five other women in the room.

“Do you think I’ll let you take her from me?” he asked them quietly. “The Laws of Three are not represented fully here. You have no demon here to pass judgement on me.”

“Who should we call forth?” Elle asked him. “You usually serve us in this capacity, Dark One.”

Lacey shot him a look. “Failed to mention that,” she said to him.

He shrugged. “Been at least four decades since I had to come play judge and jury, thought they might have found someone else.”

“Should we summon the Old One?” Ursula asked.

“He would not come,” Elle answered. “Maybe a daemon?”

“How about the Hooked One?”

“No,” Reul said, over the Coven members. “Let me speak for himself. He does not answer to any of his kind anymore.”

“Wise words, Reul,” Rumple said softly. “Then, hear this. I am her’s and she is mine.”

“She is a witch,” Ingrid reminded him. “A member of my Guardians, and she is answerable to me and this coven. She has broken the cardinal law, the founding cornerstone of this shaky alliance.”

“Other witches made deals with me. They were not punished.”

“No, because magic ensured they could not carry it out,” Elle declared. “Milah was consumed by the price of her own deal. Did you never wonder why? Why, it was her life instead of your sons?”

He did not reply.

“Then, Cora...Cora Mills ripped her own heart and soul out, muzzling her, killing the witch inside her. You knew her...do you think that is something she would have done in her right mind?”

“Then why am I still here?” Lacey demanded her. “Why did magic let me give it to him unless it was meant to be here? Now? My soul?”

“Because the world is about to end,” Reul said with a shaking voice. “You have brought the end of days upon us..”

“Bullshit.”

“We cannot allow this to stand,” Ursula said firmly. “You are sentenced to death.”

Lacey couldn’t help it. She laughed. “And you’re going to kill me? Here? Now?”

“They can try,” Rumple said beside her.

The three witches of the Supreme Coven joined hands. “Belle Larissa French, daughter of Colette Frances O’Connor, member of the Guardians and sister of the coven, do you deny the charges?”

“Fuck you.”

“Then, by the sisterhood-”

“Wait!” Five heads swiveled to Reul who was looking murderous but determined. “You are not going to bring down the entire town in a battle for the ages,” she said furiously. “I want them both dead as much as anyone but she’s right. There must be a reason.”

“The Old One is gathering strength to strike on the Winter Solstice,” Rumple said, though his worlds were terse. “We have the bones of his last descendant and his dagger-”

“You have his dagger?”

Rumple nodded and pulled it free of his jacket. The reds and oranges of the windows bounced off it, casting fragmented light over the Coven’s faces. “We can end this,” he told them. “Together.”

The Coven remained silent but finally Ingrid nodded. “You have one week,” she declared. “After the Winter Solstice, if you are not already dead, Belle here -”

“It’s Lacey, actually.”

“-shall return here to face judgement.” Ingrid’s eyes bored into Lacey. “If you run, we will take the child of True Love’s Get by force, destroy the werewolf and zombie, and kill any of the mortals who know of our ways. Is this an acceptable offer, traitors? A week to see if what you say is true?”

Rumple grinned his crocodile smile. “Perfectly.”

From her seat in the pews, Cruella raised her flask. “To the end of the world as we know it!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Um. 
> 
> Well, out of the frying pan and into the fire...
> 
> So, I try to respond ot all my comments and let you know ho wmuch I appreciat eyou, but if you are reading and aren't a commenter, please drop just a <3 or ! or a :O into the comments box today. It would make my day bright to meet some new readers even if it's not your usual thing.
> 
> Thanks for reading everyone! Eight chapters to go!


	68. Chapter 68

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No prompt today!

Thursday December 15, 2016

The two old friends sat at the bar in silence. They had a lot on their minds but the real culprit was the still sobbing bartender.

“He’s married!” Goldie wailed to them. Ruby risked a small glance over at Lacey, who quickly elbowed her before Goldie noticed. After all, just ten minutes ago, when Lacey had politely tried to excuse them from the bar, Goldie had burst into tears. “I’m-going-to-die-alone,” she said in a shaking voice.

“You’ll find the perfect guy one day,” Lacey assured her. “One that’s just right.”

Ruby caught on and began nodding along. “Yes, absolutely.”

“You really think?” she managed through as she wiped her nose with the bar towel. 

“Yea,” Lacey said. “I mean it’s not always who you’d expect.”

“It’s never you expect,” Ruby agreed. 

Goldie quieted down a bit and nodded back to them. Her eyes were bloodshot and her cheeks red but she seemed to be listening which was a good sign. “You guys are such good friends,” she said earnestly. “Let me get you a drink on me.”

“That’s okay,” Ruby said with tight smile. “I really have to get back to work...Granny’s expecting me.”

“Oh, right,” Goldie said with a furious nod. “Lacey?”

“And I’m meeting my boyfriend there for dinner!”

They hurried out of the bar fifteen minutes later, and promptly burst into relieved laughter as they hit the pavement. The sun had begun to set despite the still early hour and people had not yet left work for the day so the streets were empty.

“She slept with Tom the Thumb?” Ruby giggled. 

“Poor girl,” Lacey said with a shake of her head. “She’s getting desperate.”

“Yea, well can you blame her?” Ruby said with a snort. “There’s not like there’s a laundry list of available guys around here.”

Lacey did not reply to that comment as they both knew it wasn’t entirely true. There was a wonderful man just down the street, sitting and waiting for Ruby to call him. Which she would, eventually, when she was ready and had the time.

“I know,” Ruby sighed. “I need to end it.”

“Or just pick one of them,” Lacey said quickly. “Or neither of them but you have to do something.”

“I am,” Ruby announced as she stopped short. She took a huge breath. “That’s actually why I wanted to get drinks today. I have something to tell you.”

“What is it?”

“If we survive the Winter Solstice and then the Coven meeting after that...I’m leaving Storybrooke. For good.”

Lacey stared at her best friend. “Rubes...you’re a werewolf. You can’t just pick up and leave town. Where will you go?”

“Travel,” Ruby said with a stubborn twist to her lips. “I’ve always wanted to travel but I always had a reason to stay. College, Granny, You.”

“Me?”

Ruby sighed. “You were a mess, Lacey. You were out drinking every night, getting into situations with guys like Keith, not working...I just...I thought you were on a spiral and then all of a sudden...you started acting weird.”

The reason she had started acting weird was because a demon had moved in with her, but Ruby had not found that out for at least a couple of months.

Ruby caught Lacey’s gloved hand in her own. “Then, I got bitten,” she said softly, “and it was easy to just stay here...feel bad for myself...help you save the world but this isn’t what I want. I don’t to marry Archie and accept my fate or escape the reality of my situation with Victor with drugs and no limitations...I just want to see the world first. Just a little bit of it.”

“We can do that together,” Lacey suggested. “It’ll be great! I have magic so we won’t have to spend a dime we don’t want to and I can watch out for you during the full moons-”

“Lacey...you have DoDo-Gold- whatever it is we’re supposed to call him now. I know you want to travel the world but come on, do you want to do it with me? Or him?” Lacey’s chest tightened unpleasantly as reality dawned on her. Ruby smiled sadly. “That’s what I thought.”  
“Ruby, the Coven and the Church aren’t going to just you roam free…”

Ruby nodded. “Which is why I’m leaving...I don’t want those people to have any say over my life. Victor thinks...he thinks they’ll leave us alone, we’re ‘tame’.”

“What did Archie say?”

Ruby gave a hollow chuckle. “He said he’d take care of me. I don’t someone to take care of me like I’m a pet. I want someone to challenge me, excite me, love me and I know Archie does in his own way but...it’s not like what you have.”

“You want what I have?” 

Ruby smiled down at her. “Not all of it,” she said with a smile. “Just the little moments, when he looks at you like he’s seeing you for the first time or those moments when you two are so in sync it feels like you can read each other’s minds.” She laughed. “I actually asked Neal if you guys could but he told me it’s improbable.”

“We can’t,” Lacey said with a smile. “It would make sex incredible though, can you imagine?”

Ruby’s laughter echoed in the street as she linked arms. “Did you guys have we survived sex? I’ve heard amazing things.”

Lacey shrugged. “I was actually on my period Tuesday,” she admitted. 

“Oh, so I wasn’t the only bitch that night.”

Lacey shrieked as she moved to pinch at Ruby’s stomach. Her friend expertly avoided her pokes and prods as she tugged her along the street. Their breath came out in puffs before them as they strolled down the street and even though everything still hung in the balance, this felt like old times. 

“I was more tired and hormonal than horny. As soon as we got home, I slept until the meeting with the Coven and Church.”

“I’m always horny on my period,” Ruby shared. “It’s even worse now.”

“Yea, well I was a little busy processing the fact that I gave my heart and soul to my demon boyfriend,” Lacey laughed. 

“Belle Larissa French,” Ruby quoted, having gotten that nugget from Cruella. “She went from never saying the word love to being a sickening example of a love story.”

“Not as bad as the Nolans,” Lacey added. “If they have more than one kid, the town’s going to be lousy with magical kids.”

Ruby stopped dead. “Oh my god. Are you going to have a kid with him?”

“What? No! I was just-”

“You said lousy with kids!”

“Two kids! Two kids is lousy!”

Ruby whistled. “But I mean, are you? Going to have kids?”

Lacey was speechless. “I don’t know. Maybe? Not for a really long time if I ever decided I did…” 

“Tick, tock.”

“My mother had me when she was at least two centuries old,” Lacey reminded her. “I’m thirty.”

“Thirty five in twelve days.”

“If I live long enough to see it. Until then, I’m thirty.”

When they arrived at Granny’s a few minutes later, someone was already waiting for them.

“Hey!” Lacey pressed a kiss to his lips before leaning back with a smile. “What are you doing here?”

“I thought dinner out?”

“Mind readers,” Ruby mouthed behind him. She let herself into the diner, Granny’s voice encouraging her to hurry to change as they were already getting busy. 

“Shall we?” he asked, gesturing up the stairs.

“How about Gepetto’s?” Lacey suggested. “If they’re busy, I don’t want to take up a booth.”

He shook his head. “You had it for lunch, didn’t you?”

Lacey grinned. “Maybe?”

He exhaled fondly. “Alright, Gepetto’s it is. You know, I don’t think I’ve actually ever eaten there.”

“Well, once we convince him to let you in,” Lacey laughed. 

The town was decked in Christmas lights. Every building had a wreath or garland on the windows and even the kosher deli had draped its windows with silver and blue lights with dreidels with a menorah waiting in the window. 

“Hanukkah starts on December 24th,” he told her as she craned her neck to look inside the deli’s bakery. 

She smiled guiltily. “They make the best torah cannolis.”

“I recall. You brought home a box of twelve last year.”

“And I know you ate two,” she said, leveling a finger at him. “I can’t prove it, but I know.”

The walk to Geppetto's was mercifully short as the temperature continued to drop. They barely felt it. 

Gepetto’s was a charming old brick building on the north side of town, the names blinking in neon lights and a huge picture window letting people on the sidewalk peer into the warmth and cozy pizzeria.

It wasn’t crowded quite yet, further away from the hustle and bustle of the docks and business centers so when they came in, the owner himself hurried to meet them.

Until he recognized her.

“Lacey French,” he said with a short nod. “Pick up?”

Considering Gepetto refused to let anyone delivered to their apartment anymore, that was a fair question. “No, actually,” she said as she unwound her scarf. “Table for two please.”

Gepetto’s eyes cut to her companion and narrowed instantly. “You.”

Rumple, damn him, was grinning. “At long last we meet.”

“No!” Gepetto announced, waving his hand. “You are not welcome here! Go, shoo! I’ll have them make you a pie to go, on the house, but you have to leave now!”

“Papa!” 

A young man hurried out from behind the bar, and with an apologetic smile to Lacey, took his father to the side. 

“He has a son?” Rumple whispered. 

She shook her head. “Not that I knew of…”

After a moment, the young man hurried back to them. His father remained off by the kitchens, glaring at them both. “Sorry about that,” the younger Gepetto said with a sincere smile of apology. “He gets a little wound up sometimes. You must be Lacey French and Mr. uh..Gold?”

“Guilty.”

“I’m August,” he said and offered his hand. “I’m sorry about my father, he’s...well he’s old and sometimes he gets a bit excited. Please, follow me.”

Lacey and Rumple shared amused looks over their shoulders but they were here. August set them right up against the window where they could see the town and still enjoy the atmosphere of the cozy restaurant. 

“Let me get you a bottle of wine, on the house,” August insisted despite their protests. “When you order your pizza, I’ll chose one to compliment it. Red or white preferable?”

“Red,” Lacey answered for them. As August hurried away to collect his still glaring father, Lacey had to bite her lip from laughing. “Oh, that poor man,” she said, hiding her growing smile with the back of her hand. “His son thinks he’s crazy.”

“Fairy blood,” Rumple announced watching the father and son. “The son that is. Old Gepetto there knows a bit more about magic than I initially thought.”

“Shush!” Lacey said, kicking him under the table. “He’s coming!”

The old man came over to the table, and peered down first at Lacey and then to Rumple. “I know what you are,” he said quietly. 

“And I know what your son is,” Rumple replied back calmly. “Maybe it is best if we all decide to simply...coexist.”

“You came in here,” Gepetto reminded him gruffly. “I caused no issues with you.”

Lacey sighed. “Look, sir.” Gepetto turned at this formal addressing. “We love your pizzas. We love them more than ordering them from Sicily or New York City. They are our absolute favorites and we have had a very rough last few days. I am sorry for my companion's behavior in the past, but I assure you...we are here simply to enjoy the best pizza in the world and relax for an hour and then we will be out of your hair.”

Gepetto did not say anything for a moment but with a short nod, he returned to the kitchen.

“Kiss ass,” Rumpel teased.

Lacey gave him another kick and a wink. “Flattery gets you everywhere.”

No one came to take their order but they did not notice. Lacey filled him in on Goldie’s dating issues, Ruby’s big announcement, and he told her about his ride along with David that afternoon, a growingly frequent event.

So, they were surprised when August returned with a bottle of Malbec. 

“We hadn’t ordered yet?” 

August looked abashed. “Papa put an order in,” he said with a glance back at the kitchen. “In fact, he’s making it himself. Enjoy.”

“Fairy blood?” Lacey asked.

“Most definitely,” Rumple replied. 

Before they could continue, Gepetto returned triumphant from the kitchen with a pie large enough for twenty pie to split. He paraded it proudly through the restaurant, the rest of the patrons clapping in delight before depositing it down on their table.

“Buon appetito!”

Rumple peered at it suspiciously but to Lacey it looked divine. It was all their favorite toppings in a medley of flavors. Each slice was its own masterpiece, with different toppings and Lacey suspected the two sides even had different sauces. 

“Grazie,” Rumple murmured.

“It looks divine!” Lacey said as she pulled out her cell phone.

“Allow me,” August said, appearing at his father’s side.

That is why just shy of the hostess stand at Gepetto’s, there is a framed photo of a witch, a demon, and a proud chef all surrounding the most delicious pizza this earth has ever seen.

If asked about it, the proprietor merely smiles and says, “People can surprise you. If you just give them the chance.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, but I couldn't go the entire story without at least meeting Gepetto once. Plus, dinner dates and best friend heart to hearts, am I right?
> 
> Wanted to say a huge hello (and thank you for commenting) to all the new faces that left <3 last chapter and tell you how much it made me smile to see new names who have been on this adventure with me. 
> 
> I'm still a few days behind in my 25 Days of House Guest Christmas but I'm making a dent in it and cannot believe I'm coming to the end. 
> 
> XoXo, B


	69. Chapter 69

_Friday, December 16, 2016_

 The knock on the door came at the worst possible time.

“Rumple?” Lacey cried as she struggled to put on her leggings. They had somehow gotten tangled in the drawer with two other identical pairs. “Can you get that?”

Without looking away from the television, he waved a hand towards the door. It swung open to reveal Regina in mid motion to knock again. Lacey stood abruptly, yanking her leggings up as she let her oversized sweater fall back into place. Queenie yowled in protest at the other witch. Satisfied she had done her part, she collapsed back into Rumple’s lap and returned to to purring in lazy contentment. Ever since Rumple had unofficially moved back in, Queenie had been in heaven. 

Regina did not make a move to enter the apartment despite the frigid temperature out in the hallway. She eyed the pair on the couch in disgust before she turned to find Lacey standing there in her loungewear. “What are you doing? You’re not even dressed!”

“What am I doing?” Lacey repeated. “What are you doing!?”

“You haven’t been to work since Tuesday!”

Lacey gawked at her. This had all the makings of a Who’s on First skit. “Are you serious?”

Rumple threw a curious glance over his shoulder at their visitor. “Looks like it,” he said helpfully.

Regina folded her arms, a slow deliberate motion designed to make the target victim as uncomfortable as possible. Lacey did the same thing, her jaw jutted out in pure stubbornness. “The town isn’t paying you to stay home and watch TV,” Regina snapped. “People are actually coming to my office to protest about this stupid Christmas Parade debacle because they can’t reach anybody on the phone.”

“Good,” Lacey said. “You deal with it. I’m done.”

“Typical! As soon as you get tired of something, you’re done! Just like that.”

“Ladies!” Rumple interrupted, "as interesting as all this sounds, could you please take it elsewhere? I’m trying to watch my show.”

“It’s my apartment,” Lacey reminded him. “Go over to Archie’s or go see your son.”

“I will. After I find out what happened to Santos.”

Knowing a losing battle when she saw one, Lacey grabbed her purse and jacket off the counter. “I wanted a coffee anyway.” He tilted his face up for a kiss without ever breaking eye contact from the screen. Despite her annoyance, Lacey couldn’t help but grin as she dropped a quick peck on his cheek.

Regina eyed Lacey's outfit distastefully.  “Are you actually going out in public dressed like that?”

Lacey fluffed up her jacket’s collar as the temperature drop sent goosebumps down her arms. “Coming or not?”

Regina, as unaffected as usual, nodded primly and quickly passed her to stomp down the stairs. They walked in silence to the only decent coffee shop in town, though Lacey would never admit that to Granny even under torture. Chip’s Cup was already bustling with most of the nine to fivers in line as they grabbed coffee to make it through their Fridays.

Luckily, being witches, Regina and Lacey simply sat down at a newly vacant table and waited for their coffee to come to them. No one batted an eyelash when the barista hurried around the bar to deposit two large drinks, free of charge, before hurrying back to the growing line.

Neither wanted to speak first but Lacey had all day. Regina, on the other hand, had a town to run. She broke first. 

“Is this about the other day?” Regina finally said with a huff. “The meeting at the church?”

“The one where you left me to die at the hands of the Coven?”

Regina scoffed. “They weren’t going to kill you. Just rap you on your knuckles and count on your gratitude to ensure you take care of the Old One for them.”

“They sentenced me to death!”

Regina looked slightly skeptical. “You’re still here.”

“Only because Reul, of all people, went to bat for me.”

Regina laughed. “Now, I know you're lying. There is no world in which Reul Ghorm defends a witch who has given her soul to a demon.”

Yet, that's exactly what Reul had done.

The church had nearly been the site of an all out magical battle. Rumple had been very close to unleashing whatever magic he now possessed on the Coven to protect her and Lacey wasn’t sure she would have tried to stop him. If the Mother Superior hadn’t pointed out that the Bozo was still on the loose and a credible threat, Lacey wouldn’t be here right now. She’d either be dead or on the run. Neither choice was appealing.

“She did. Unlike you."

Regina stared at Lacey for a long beat, her lips twisted in thought. “I killed my mother,” Regina finally said without any emotion. “Did you know that?”

Lacey had not but judging by Regina’s relaxed attitude, this was not a huge secret. Regina slipped off her ring, the one with the Napoleonic eagle on it, and slid it across the table to Lacey. Her witch’s pendant gleamed in the coffee shop light so briefly that Lacey thought she may have imagined it. “My father was a Bonaparte. So, I learned how to be a proper lady from governesses. When my mother's schedule allowed, she taught me how to be a witch.”

Lacey had to bite her tongue which was close to impossible. Her throat chakra flared hot and she had to clap a hand over it to keep it from opening on its own.

“As you know, my mother was quite her own woman.”

“I’m familiar with your mother’s relationship with my boyfriend,” Lacey reminded Regina through gritted teeth. “You can skip over that part.”

“But it’s important. My mother ripped out her own heart to prevent your demon boyfriend from getting her soul,” Regina said casually. “So, I grew up with a mother incapable of love, who used mortal souls to do magic like some common demon. The only reason she even gave birth to me was in the hopes I would love her enough to give her my heart and soul willingly.”

It was hard to imagine Regina ever being a dutiful daughter, or one who would sacrifice herself even for her own mother. From what Lacey had heard of Cora, it sounded like the apple hadn't fallen far from the tree. Regina threw a quick distraction spell up around them as she sat back with a sigh. “My mother had seen what kind of power and freedom demons had and it haunted her. She thought if she removed her heart...her soul would remain intact and useable but that wasn’t the case. Instead, she was hobbled, magically crippled.”

Lacey couldn’t help it. “Okay, but how did she remove her heart in the first place?”

Regina shrugged. “Like this.”

In the next instant, Regina leaned across the cafe table to plunge her hand into Lacey’s chest. Despite Regina’s entire hand being embedded in Lacey’s body, there was no searing pain or quick death. It felt more like searing heartburn. Lacey’s magic went silent. She opened her mouth but nothing came out.

Regina's eyes were dark as pitch as her blood red lips curled into a triumph smile. “Mother taught me everything she knew, which I’m sure is why Rumpelstiltskin came to me when the time was right. He convinced me it was time Cora should die. He was angry, you see. She was growing too powerful, too reckless, and I...I was sick of being reared as a pig for the slaughter. Oh don’t look so horrified. Your mother loved you. I can tell by the way your face falls when you think of her. Ah, yes, just like that.”

Lacey tried to lift a trembling hand to push Regina away, but it fell limply back into her lap. Around them, no one noticed a thing. The coffee shop patrons went on with their business as usual. 

“It’s not your actual heart, I’m holding,” Regina explained to her as if this was another day at the office. “In fact, my hand isn’t in your body at all. Demons rip the actual bloody organ out, but Mother found a different way...through the chest center where the ‘heart’ lies. The one that breaks when you feel sad and leaps when its glad. I can take it out and you’ll live just like my mother...unable to love...but without ever really caring that you can’t. You’ll be just like the demon you’re trying to destroy. Heartless, emotionless, driven.”

Lacey's lips were numb and her tongue was thick in her mouth. “R-Regina…” 

“You know, I wonder,” Regina said quietly. “If I took your heart...would I control Rumpelstiltskin? If I just held it in my hands, and spoke my will, would he do whatever I asked?”

A single tear dropped down Lacey’s cheek.

Regina sat back as quickly as she had lunged. She returned to sipping her espresso as if she had not just moments ago threatened everything Lacey had worked so hard to accomplish. Magic spiraled back to Lacey so quickly, her head rushed. She was dizzy and nauseous all at once.

“It won’t work with a demon,” Regina said Lacey wheezed in painful relief. “Up until last week, no one thought a demon could love but it appears one’s true heart isn’t really tied to that pesky organ at all.”

Lacey threw the strongest spell she could think of, a slicing hex designed to cut Regina into ribbons but the senior witch waved it aside like it was a gnat.

“Relax. You’re fine. If I had wanted to kill you, you would be dead. When I failed to give my mother my heart on my own, she tried to take it from me. She had enough of waiting to be whole again. If Rumpelstiltskin had not already come to me, explained what my mother did to prevent from giving her away her soul like she promised him… I might have even let her. As it was, I managed to resist her.”

Lacey massaged the still aching spot where Regina’s hand hadn’t really entered her body. It tingled and burned like a vicious sunburn and nothing, not even pressure, was relieving it. She hadn’t been able to so much as twitch her foot under Regina’s sway. “How?”

“My familiar,” Regina said with a small smile. “She bit my mother’s foot. Eve was always very protective.” In the time they had known each other, Regina had never once mentioned her familiar. Mal had once warned Lacey not to bring it up, that if a familiar was not a part of a witch’s life, it meant they had passed. Familiars left a deep hole that could never be filled and which was best left alone. “Eve was a sand viper,” Regina told her with no irony. “Deadly poisonous if you aren't a witch. My mother stepped on her head….crushed Eve under her heel just like she had done to me for all those year. In that small moment, I was able to react. The next minute, my mother was dead. I can’t remember what spell I said, or what hex I called down, but it was self defense. Even the Supreme Coven ruled in my favor.”

Considering Lacey could still barely form coherent thoughts after the trauma, the story was an impressive one if Regina was telling the truth.

“It’s all true,” Regina said pointedly. “Doesn’t matter if you believe me, it’s in the past. The point, I’m trying to make is that I learned at an early age what it meant to be used and played. I miscalculated Wednesday and for that...I’m sorry.”

“You almost just killed me!” Lacey hissed. “Do you think I believe you?”

Regina shook her head. “I didn’t try to kill you. I showed you how to defeat any witch on this planet. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to go. I promised Mary Margaret I would refresh their house wards before Emma goes down for her nap this afternoon.”

“Regina.”

The mayor paused.

“Is that why...is Mary Margaret the reason you’re still here in Storybrooke?”

Regina took a deep breath. The din of the coffee shop grew faint as Regina's distracting spell stretched just a little too long. The smells of the shop grew stronger in retaliation and Lacey’s stomach grumbled a reminder that she had skipped breakfast.

“I did not love Mary Margaret's father, but he had connections I needed. Despite his love for his daughter, he was misogynistic old man, and I would not have gotten what I needed through business or diplomacy, so I took it by taking his last name. If Snow...Mary Margaret...had not discovered my secret, I would have left her behind after his death to whatever family would have wanted her.”

“So, you moved to a small town with a kid that wasn’t yours where you hoped no one would notice a witch? Seems kind of counterproductive.”

Regina did not reply but stood to leave. “Regardless of why I came and why I stayed, the fact of the matter is, I may not have loved for Mary Margaret like a daughter, or cared for her like a mother, but I was there. I did what had to be done and asked for nothing in return but her continued secrecy which she gave me until you came along. Then, she gives birth to True Love’s Get. A witch so powerful, my mother is probably rolling in her grave at the injustice of it all.”

“Emma is not your granddaughter, Regina.”

“No, she’s not. Not in the ways of blood and bone but in the ways of magic, and in the ways that even we witches do not understand, she is tied to me. I will sacrifice you a hundred times over for that child. While I hope it never comes to that, I am telling you this because you are also my sister in the ways of magic, and though we may never be friends, I think you, out of everyone, may understand.”

Lacey did not respond for a moment before she finally nodded. “I’ll see you at the office on Monday.”

“Don’t be late.”

And with that, the Mayor of Storybrooke swept out of the coffee shop and back into the December chill. Lacey would never repeat any of their conversation to Mary Margaret, because there was no need.

She had a feeling Mary Margaret probably already knew.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not too long but there was a lot of stuff that needed to be said. 
> 
> I tend to cast Regina as the villain in my writing, not because I don't love her (and respect the hell out of Lana's performances) but because she's such a great foil AND she was so deliciously evil in the first season that I just love getting to explore that. This piece I made a conscious effort to make her a wild card, a reluctant ally if you will, because I also love Skin Deep and Regina will always be the evil queen who locked Belle up in a tower/nut house and told Rumple she was dead. 
> 
> So, wanted to pay homage to that in the last chapter when she 'betrayed' them but wanted to show you guys where she was coming from. I really love the idea of her feeling connected to this miracle, thinking it was due to her on some part and hey, maybe it is. But I wanted to play up Regina's feelings for Henry in this verse, without bringing Henry into this verse.
> 
> So, we still have to check in with Archie, Ariel & Eric, Leroy & Astrid, Victor, the Nolans, Jefferson & Neal before the end, have a final battle, (and if that goes well talk with the Coven & Church) before we see what the future holds for our favorite witch & demon. 
> 
> Andd I have six chapters in which to do that. ;)


	70. Chapter 70

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -Lacey finds out Rumple can actually sing-
> 
> This one is dedicated to Nia not because today is her birthday but because she is amazing in every way. She is an amazing talent in the Rumbelle fandom whose work are diverse and transporting. Her heart is an amazing place full of compassion, creativity and beauty and I am throughly lucky to not only call her a friend in this fandom but have been blessed with two beautiful pictures in the House Guest universe alone.
> 
> Happiest of birthdays Nia darling.

Saturday December 17th, 2016

The thing about brides was it didn’t matter if the wedding was tomorrow, two weeks from now or next year, whatever they wanted, they got it.

Which was why, despite the weather, Lacey was at the Rabbit Hole for Karaoke Night. The neon in the bar had some help lighting the usually dark space as Goldie had convinced management to let her deck the entire ceiling with multi-colored christmas lights.

“Merry Christmas!” the bartender crooned as she stopped by their table. Rumple grinned at Lacey from behind his scotch glass as she muttered a half hearted greeting in return. The blonde had finally given up on hopes to attract Rumple's attention, but that didn’t mean she didn’t stare every chance she got. 

As Goldie hurried back to the bar, Ariel returned with Eric and a tray of drinks. “Merry Christmas!” she too said, passing out shots like christmas presents. Eric slid Lacey a double with a small wink before he sat down by his fiancé. “I signed us all up!”

“All of us?” David said in trepidation. He still had his Sheriff’s uniform on since he had come right after work to secure the table for the party. Despite the crowd, no one had even tried to take so much as a chair from the lawman which meant the rest of them had been able to arrive later.

Ariel nodded eagerly, a mischievous look on her face as she winked at Lacey. “Every single one of us. They said they’d space it out a bit.”

“I chose the songs,” Eric said with a matching grin. 

“What are you two singing?” Mary Margaret asked. 

“Whitney Houston!” Ariel exclaimed. She hummed a few bars of I Wanna Dance with Someone. 

“I’m not going after you,” Ruby said as she crossed her arms. “You’re too good a singer.”

Ariel, pleased at the attention, shrugged guiltily. “She’s going first,” Eric assured the group. “I’m doing Rick Astley.”

The entire table groaned. “You’re going to rick roll the bar?” Lacey snickered. 

He nodded. “Figured it was better than Sweet Caroline.”

David looked confused. “What’s wrong with Neil Diamond?”

“Good thing you picked the songs,” Lacey said aside to Eric. “What’s David singing?”

“I took pity on them, and gave them a duet since they’re only staying until midnight,” he whispered back. Archie, having declined the invite, had volunteered to babysit Emma. Ruby kept checking her phone but judging by her expression, Archie wasn’t answering her texts either. 

Before Eric could tell Lacey, exactly what song the Nolans were singing, two familiar faces entered the basement bar and glanced around to find somewhere to sit in the sea of people. “Shit! Duck!” Lacey hissed to Rumple and pulled him down low to the table.

 

“Lacey?” he asked in some confusion. 

“Neal just walked in with Cruella,” Lacey groaned. “If they see us-!”

“Darlings!!”

Rumple gave her a cock eyed grin before straightening up to greet Cruella. The infernal woman wore her usual fur coat travesty, a black and white monster that looked like it was made from furbies. Neal stood guiltily beside her. With a sigh, Lacey motioned for him to sit next to her. Rumple could deal with Cruella.

After greeting the rest of the group, he sat down on the barstool beside Lacey. “Sorry, but she wanted to go out.”

“I thought you were with Jefferson?”

Neal sighed. “He wanted to go help Archie watch Emma, and...it’s just a little weird after…”

Lacey muffled her laughter with another drink. Across the table, David was eyeing Neal as if he was a suspect, which only caused Lacey to snort into her drink.

“Laugh it up,” Neal muttered as he held up a hand to grab the waitress’s attention. “In a couple years you could be my stepmother and then it’ll be weird for you too.”

Lacey sobered enough to elbow him in the stomach. “Not funny.”

Cruella ended up sitting by Eric, seemingly charmed by the attractive young man. “So, tell me, darling,” she purred. “Where have they been keeping you?”

“Uh…”

Ariel looked bewildered but tried to keep a polite look on her face. “So, Cruella, you’re friends with Neal?”

“Auntie Cruella is a family friend. She lets me stay with her in the city when I’m not traveling,” Neal explained.

“And how did you uh...meet?” Eric asked as Cruella began to play with the hair on his forehead. He cast a look to Lacey who took pity on him enough to send a quick zing of magic to Cruella’s chair. It scooted back on it’s own, though it did not dampen Cruella’s mood.

“Me and Gold here go way back,” Cruella said with a wink across the table. She linked arms with Eric. Her smile would have been home on a crocodile . “Tell me about you…”

“I’m engaged,” Eric said hurriedly. He grabbed Ariel’s hand and thrust the ring into Cruella’s face. “We’re getting married in May.”

“We’re very excited,” Ariel said defiantly with a toss of her long red hair. “Do you two want to sing?”

“Oh, yes!” Cruella said as she rubbed her bony hands together in anticipation. “Where does one sign up?”

“I’ll sit tonight out,” Neal said, but he got up. “I’ll walk you to the bar though. I don’t think the waitress is coming back any time soon.”

The two of them disappeared through the crowd. Before they got far, Ariel turned to Lacey with a direct look. “Is she always like that?”

“Worse,” Rumple said. 

“Alright, alright. Everyone shut up.” The group quieted and turned as one to the stage. Leroy, glared down at the audience, a Santa Claus hat slipping down over his brow. “Welcome to the Rabbit Hole’s Annual Christmas Karaoke. Where you sing, you drink but you don’t puke on stage.”

Lacey whistled and Mary Margaret snapped a picture on her phone. Leroy flipped them both the middle finger before returning to his emcee duties. While he had refused to go into much detail, another reason Lacey had agreed to come tonight was because Leroy had lost a bet of sorts and was hosting the event despite his hatred of all things karaoke. 

‘First up...the Nolans singing Elton John!”

David’s face went white, but Mary Margaret tugged him up to the stage. It had been much easier than Lacey had expected to convince them to come tonight but it was growing apparent that Mary Margaret was a closet karaoke fan. Before Leroy could escape the stage, Mary Margaret had him wrapped in a hug even as the music started to play.

A familiar duet started to trickle out and only through sheer luck did David make it to the microphone to stammer out the first words of Don’t Go Breaking My Heart. 

“Oh no!” Lacey laughed as Mary Margaret hurried to rescue him. “Not this one!”

“It’s easy,” Eric assured her. “Maybe a bit repetitive but I figured they’d rather get it out of the way.”

“They’re so cute!” Ariel said as the married couple began to relax on stage. David had managed to think up some choreography which his wife mimicked until the entire crowd was clapping along as the pair crooned into the microphones. Mary Margaret's voice was a surprisingly pleasant soprano, though slightly higher pitched than her usual speaking voice. David...well David did his best but made up for it with some well timed comedic dance moves. That and his sheriff’s badge winked in the strobe lights set up for the night, and most of the audience was filming this.

Neal returned towards the end of the song and watched his potentially future in-laws kiss on stage as the song died out and encouraging applause erupted around them. 

Before Leroy could even get back up on stage, Cruella somehow appeared to grab the mic. “C flat, darling,” she said with a dismissive wave. 

Neal groaned and buried his face into his arms while Rumple shook his head in disbelief. “Is she talking to the DJ?” Ariel asked but the sound of piano keys surprised the entire bar into momentary silence.

“Since when is there a piano?” Eric asked as he craned his neck to look at the back of the bar. A black monstrosity had appeared where pool tables had been moments ago. Beside her, Rumple shrugged innocently, which was indication enough that he hadn’t been able to help himself. 

“You’re incorrigible,” Lacey mumbled to him. “The manager is going to notice someone replaced his pool tables with a baby grand.”

“I’ll put them back later,” he assured her. Ever since their connection had allowed him access to her magic, Rumple’’s magic use had gone from useful to over the top. It was hard to be annoyed by it though when floors bloomed from her floorboards in the dead of winter, take out from all over the world was stocked in her fridge and Queenie’s litter box remained clean without anyone touching it. 

“This will be my last night in Storybrooke,” Cruella announced as the piano slowly played her in. “The end of the world is coming next Tuesday so I think I’ll spend it in New York City with the fabulous people instead of this backwater town. Honestly, flannel? Are you serious?”

The confused murmuring was thankfully drowned out as Cruella began her song. “I’ll be seeing you...in all the familiar places…”

Her voice defied description. It was as if a smoker had decided to warble, and though the syllables were dark and gritty, they harmonized beautifully with the classic piano’s crisp sounds. The crowd, confused but game, fell under the spell of the creature on stage, who winked and purred her way through the song. The fact that is not karaoke but lounge singing was lost on the entire crowd and when she finished, Ariel and Eric were clapping the loudest.

“How?” Lacey said in disbelief.

“She has her ways,” Neal said with a shrug. “Well done, Auntie.”

Cruella smiled benevolently as the group cheered her return. Up on stage, a group of women were beginning to giggle their way through a spice girls song, while Leroy threw back a shot by the DJ booth. Rumple slid Lacey another shot of tequila and pressed a kiss to the corner of her lip. “Do you want to leave?” he asked her as his hand dipped down to rest on her stockinged thigh. 

The truth was Cruella was right. The end of the world very well might come Tuesday if they failed in defeating Bozo on the Winter Solstice. They only needed his blood and a chance to strike. He had not resurfaced from the other realm, though Lacey knew the spells to call him forth if she had to. 

Even if they succeeded, they would have to face the Coven the next day come whatever. It was that which haunted their every minute now, the knowledge that the end might come even if they were strong enough to defeat the original demon. 

They had not had a lot of time on their own. Or they had, but it didn’t feel like enough time. Lacey suspected an eternity would never be enough time with him, and though he did not say anything, she rather thought he felt the same. 

“It’s just one night,” she said as she raised a hand to his cheek. “Besides, I know you’ve missed Neal.”

Rumple looked around her to where his son was watching the shenanigans on stage with a look of horror. “He seems preoccupied at the moment,” he said, though he did not foll her.

“Talk to him,” she said, prodding him gently. “You two haven’t really...talked lately.”

“I can hear you, you know,” Neal said from beside her. 

“Then, you know I’m right,” Lacey said in satisfaction. 

The father and son chose to ignore her in favor of applauding the retiring mess of girls off the stage as Leroy announced it was Ariel’s turn.

Eric pressed a kiss to her lips as she hopped up and hurried to the stage. Within a minute, I Wanna Dance with Somebody swept the entire bar. 

Newcomers to the bar had stopped to watch Ariel’s performance, and Goldie even stopped what she was doing at the bar to listen. “She’s good,” Neal said, impressed.

“She knows,” Eric said over the loudspeaker. “Which is why she drags everyone to karaoke at least once a year.”

Their table was quickly becoming a fan favorite, with people stopping by to congratulate Cruella on her performance and repeat some of David’s more inspired dance moves as they scurried back to their seats. The Sheriff grinned good-naturedly back. 

“How much have you given him to drink?” Lacey asked Rumple. 

“Four shots,” he said, sliding her another one. “I’ll make sure they get a taxi home.”

The sheriff winked at them from across the table as his wife cheered Ariel who had just hit a note that only Whitney should have been able to hit. The bar went mad and even Leroy clapped in appreciation. 

After Ariel’s number died, they took a bit of a break as a few other locals got up on stage to belt out their best drunken karaoke favorites. They saw bar regulars Anastasia and Dru do the theme from Beaches (badly), Leroy’s trivia team did Hey Ho from the Lumineers which was as confusing as it was off pitch, and though he didn’t sing, Li Shang from Lacey’s once favorite Chinese restaurant rapped 8 Mile to the crowd’s delight. 

The next from their table was Eric, who did a decent Elvis impersonation as he rick rolled the bar. A few people booed in jest but by the end of it, everyone was singing along although no one has off key as Eric himself.

“Did you ever think you would be here?” she asked Rumple as Eric urged the crowd to really get it into it. 

“In this bar?” he asked her in some confusion.

“No, just….in a bar with a bunch of mortals you actually like and about to perform karaoke.”

“I like David,” Rumple corrected her. “The rest…”

“You like them more than you’d admit,” Lacey said as she leaned into him. “Besides, I happen to know you’re fonder of Archie than you say.”

“Master Hopper is a delight to torment,” he agreed,” but he’s been through enough, don’t you think?”

Across from them, Ruby was texting rapidly, and judging by the disgruntled look on her face, it was not Archie.

“She told him she was thinking about moving,” Lacey whispered. “He didn’t take it well.”

Nobody was really. Lacey had been supportive of course but it didn’t change the fact that she was going to miss her best friend. Ruby’s grandmother had simply laughed at the notion. After all, hardly any natives ever left Storybrooke. 

Archie….well, Archie hadn’t understood at all. 

“Archie’s life lies in a different direction,” Neal said from beside her. “It’ll be okay.”

“Look we already have Jefferson alluding to weird things in the future,” Lacey told him pointedly. “We don’t need another one of you.”

He nodded, abashed. “Guess it is a bit weird,” he admitted. 

“It’s weird,” Lacey agreed.

Eric returned to the table triumphant and Ariel greeted him with a giggling kiss and another shot. 

“Slow down, Papa,” Neal said as the shot glasses refilled themselves without the couple noticing. “Not everyone has four centuries of tolerance built up.”

“It’s a celebration,” Rumple said with a wink. “Let them be merry.”

“Let them be hungover, more like,” Neal snorted. 

“Hear, hear,” Ruby said, raising her own shot to clink against Neal’s beer glass. 

“You’re up after this, Ruby,” Eric said as he indicated a group of college aged boys who were doing their best attempt at a boy band ballad popular when Lacey had been in college. 

“And I’ll be singing?”

He grinned. “It’s a surprise.”

“Oh,” Cruella cooed. “I do love a man full of surprises.”

Eric and Ariel had casually switched chairs so the redhead smiled tightly up at Cruella. “What was all that about by the way?” she asked as if remembering something very ancient. “About the end of the world?”

“Auntie’s got a weird sense of humor,” Neal hurried to say just as one of the guys on stage decided it was time to take his shirt off. With a little magical assistance, landed on Cruella’s head before she could say anything and the entire bar burst into laughter.

“Well,” Cruella said icily as she tugged the surprisingly sweaty button up free of her hair. “I see this is one of those establishments.”

“I did tell you it was dive bar,” Neal reminded her. “You said you’d behave.”

“I am, darling,” Cruella said with a wounded tone. “But I really must fly, I promised Ursula I’d stop by before I left town. Might not see her again after Tuesday.” 

Ariel’s brow furrowed. “What happens after Tuesday?”

“Ariel!” Mary Margaret leapt in to save the day. “You said you were going to show me the bridesmaid dresses?”

David caught on quickly. “Eric, help me get the next round?”

As the Nolans distracted the couple, Lacey leaned across the table to hiss at Cruella. “Stop talking abut the end of the world!”

“At least I am!” Cruella replied haughtily. “The rest of you! Acting like it’s not going to happen. Here’s some advice, darling. Live. Live each day like it’s your last. You know, for a witch, you worry too much.”

With that, she stood and with a last finger wiggle at the still bewildered Eric up at the bar, she swept out into the night like a bird of prey. 

“Are she and Ursula…?” Neal asked in some trepidation.

“Ruby!” Leroy yelled across the room. He had given up emcee duties and was sitting at the bar with a list, snarling at anyone who came up to add their name to the growing number. “You’re up!”

“What am I singing?” Ruby repeated but Eric waved her up to the front of the room. 

The crowd recognized Ruby from the diner so by the time she got to the stage, her song had already started. Florence and the Machine’s poured from the speakers as Ruby laughed in disbelief as Dog Days are Over flashed across the monitor.

Eric looked around in confusion. “I signed her up for What’s Up,” he said to the table.

Lacey couldn’t help but grin as Ruby caught her eye. While not a strong singer, Ruby made up for it enthusiasm and encouraged the front row to sing the chorus with her into the mic. Both the Nolans glanced back at Lacey, but Ariel was filming it while cheering along. Only Eric and Leroy looked confused.

“We’re up,” Rumple whispered to her. “Wanna make a break for it?”

With Cruella’s words still ringing in her ear, Lacey shook her head. “Nah,” she said as the tequila went to work. She leaned against him as she watched her best friend belt out the anthem of better days and hoped like hell the song was right.

“What are we singing?” she whispered back as the song began to come to a close. 

“Whatever we want,” he reminded her.

She chuckled. “What did Eric sign us up for?”

Rumple thought about it for a moment and then with a laugh, he said, “Police. Every Little Thing She Does is Magic.”

Eric, oblivious to this conversation, clapped as Ruby bowed up on stage. Lacey shook her head in disbelief, but something about the strangeness of it all felt right to her.

“It’s you and me,” she said as Leroy announced their names to the growingly inebriated bar.

“Always,” he answered back with a quick kiss that tasted of scotch and promises.

In the end, they did a decent job. Rumple’s voice was pleasant and while there was one moment where he seemed to be on the edge of a strip tease for no apparent reason other than to shock the crowd, they performed the fun eighties classic in style.

Lights flashed, fog curled up around the stage and crept into the crowd and a disco ball dropped from the ceiling to the entire crowd’s delight. Lacey let loose, ignoring all the thing in her head that told her Tuesday was coming quickly, that there was a million things still to be done, to be thought of, to be planned for and just had fun.

Every little thing about it was magic.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a bottle chapter with the gang. I just wanted to do some karaoke and have some fun with songs. Back to plot next time.


	71. Chapter 71

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Neal and Rumple have a heart to heart.

_Sunday December 18th, 2016_

Lacey had kicked him out of the apartment.

“I did not kick you out,” she said beside him as she shoved her bare hands into her coat pockets. “It’s too nice outside to sit inside all day.”

It was not nice outside. It was above freezing, that did not make it nice.

“We’re going to Tahiti as soon as this nonsense is over,” he grumbled as they trudged past Sprat’s.

Lacey snorted. “The cold doesn’t even bother you,” she reminded him. Her own warming spell had flushed her cheeks but Jack Frost still nipped at her extremities. He tried to get a better look down her pea coat but she was walking too fast for him to get a decent peek. “I want to go to Scotland first,” she said abruptly.

“Scotland?”

She nodded. “To tell Mal all about how we decimated Bozo and to see where you lived once upon a time.”

It was his turn to snort. “Last time I stopped by, that old village was some heinous tourist trap,” he told her. “Besides, in Tahiti, you could wear those little skirts you’re so fond of...maybe go on a hike in the jungle...explore old ruins…’

Her pleased smile was well worth his time perusing those old travel books she had shoved under the bed. She nodded and made a small humming noise that he took for agreement as they started down the street toward Granny’s. He frowned. They had eaten before they had left the apartment and there was nothing interesting down this way except-

“Neal!”

While father and son did not look much alike, after all centuries of living does have its way with people, his son’s face mirrored his own. A rueful look mixed with a slight tinge of surprise that they had not seen this coming.

Lacey was as subtle as a bulldozer. She wore a smug grin as she marched straight towards Neal. “Fancy seeing you here!”

“You called and invited me to coffee,” Neal pointed out. “You said and I quote ‘we should catch up’.”

Lacey shrugged. “Did I?”

“Lacey, my son and I are perfectly able to schedule time to spend together,” Rumpelstiltskin grumbled. “You didn’t need to set up an ambush.”

“An ambush would have involved magic, the werewolf room and no bathroom breaks,” Lacey said archly. “This is simply a strongly suggested tete a tete.” Across the street at the Inn, Jefferson poked his head out the door and waved. “I do actually have plans this afternoon,” Lacey said as she pressed a quick kiss to his cheek. “I’ll see you two later.”

With that, she hurried across the street to disappear into the Inn, leaving Rumpelstiltskin and Baelfire standing on the street awkwardly.

“Come on, then,” Rumpelstiltskin sighed. “You hungry?”

“Not really,” Baelfire replied. “You want to...I don’t know...go for a walk?”

Rumpelstiltskin did a quick mental calculation of the last time he had gone for a walk with no destination, plan, or objective. He came up short.

“I suppose,” he said after a moment. After all, the Old One was still hiding out in the other realm and Rumpelstiltskin had a witch’s magic at his fingertips. With that mental reminder, he shot a quick warming spell at his son whose muscles instantly relaxed as the magic took effect.

Baelfire tugged his woolen scarf loose. “Thanks, Papa,” he said. “Where to?”

“The docks,” Rumpelstiltskin answered vaguely. There was something restless about the sea and the sky today. “How are...things?”

Baelfire pulled an amused face but recovered quickly enough to respond. “Not much to do now that Auntie left town. It’s more wait and see at this point.”

There was no guarantee that anything would be resolved come the Winter Solstice but every bone in Rumpelstiltskin's ancient body seemed to herald its coming. The witches were just as restless. Lacey had tossed and turned all evening. She had woken up only long enough to grind against him in the darkness until he had buried himself inside her and brought her to the brink again and again until she had collapsed back into the pillows too tired to think straight.

The halfbreeds felt it too, judging by Baelfire’s jerky motions. Anything that moved caught the immortal’s attention, his eyes searching the shadows and tracing the alleyways as they passed through the quiet part of the town.

“Don’t worry,” Rumpelstiltskin said and reached out to grip his son’s shoulder in what he hoped was a reassuring touch. “He’s overextended his hand. After centuries, he’s finally made a mistake.”

Baelfire stared down at where his hand rested but did not shrug him off. “You’ve changed,” he said finally as he slowed to a stop.

“Changed?” Rumpelstiltskin snorted. “Unlikely.”

“No, I mean it,” Baelfire said. He shook his head as if trying to clear it of cobwebs. “I noticed it this summer….after Maleficent's death but lately….”

There was a weird prickling in his stomach but Rumpelstiltskin ignored it. “People don’t change,” he reminded his son. “You’ve lived through enough lifetimes to know that.”

Baelfire did not flinch. “Exactly,” he said and folded his arms over his chest. “But you have. I guess falling in love does that to people.”

It did not need to be said that demons were not people. Still, there was no denying he was very much in love. There was concrete proof of it in the fact that the two of them stood in the Maine cold and were as warm if they were on deck in the Caribbean.

Lacey’s magic was in Rumpelstiltskin's veins. They shared a love that was was uncharted as the stars above and was as fathomless. It defied explanation, expectations, and experience. It simply was.

He had played a role for so long, it had become part of him. Yet, he had not even noticed when he had stopped playing it.

“I like you like this,” Baelfire said quietly. “Love suits you.”

His son’s voice was steady, but there was a vulnerability in the first few syllables that betrayed his stoic face.

“Bae,” Rumpelstiltskin said firmly. “I know you may not believe this, but I have always loved you.”

His son chuckled and looked down to toe the ground with his boot. “Come on, Papa,” he said. “It’s different and you know it.”

“It’s not.”

They had spent centuries misunderstanding each other. Rumpelstiltskin had let it go on, angry at his son for his prejudices, angry at himself for his own choices, content to let the relationship linger in some limbo of familial begrudging acceptance.

“You were my son the moment you quickened in your mother’s womb,” he continued and if his voice shook slightly, his son did not mention it. “You were my flesh, my blood, and my legacy but you were my child first and foremost.”

Rumplestiltskin had never asked Lacey what loving a demon was like. He assumed it was rather like loving a witch, full of contradictions, powerful and volatile, vulnerable in their own ways, prideful and vengeful, possessive and controlling and desperately, utterly, insanely passionate.

He let the facade of Gold drop away. They were close to the docks and his coat’s collar flipped up high enough to mask his face. Baelfire’s eyes did not show any disgust or annoyance, but a simple wariness, a tightness around the lips that spoke volumes.

“I love you,” Rumplestiltskin said firmly. “I may not always agree with you and I may be frustrated by your choices but I have loved you since the moment I learned of you, and it has never faded, wavered or flickered in the years you have walked this earth. Whether it be Baelfire, or Neal, or whatever name you chose for yourself in the near future, you are and always will be my beloved son.”

Bae swallowed and looked away. His jaw was tense and his throat was working as if he was trying to swallow back some emotion. Rumpelstiltskin, familiar with Lacey and mortals now, simply stood there and let him. His son was not a typical halfbreed, no true demon spawn, but a man cut from his own cloth.

“In the futures I saw,” Neal started roughly before clearing his throat and trying again. “In the futures I saw, I thought…”

“You thought the one where the world was ending was the most likely scenario,” Rumpelstiltskin finished for him. “You have, after all, known me as long as anyone.”

“But that’s just it,” Neal said softly. “I didn’t. I believed the one with the church and the wedding and the happy ever afters because you...you’ve grown up. I didn’t doubt it for a second, well, I mean I doubted the whole me getting married to Emma Nolan of all people thing, but not that you and Lacey were happy. Or that you were there for my big day, or that there was so much love in that one building thirty years for now. It felt real. Jefferson said that’s just because of some hormones from the jump but- what I’m trying to say is...I’m proud of you and… I love you too.”

There are different types of love. Eros, Philia, Storge, Ludus, Mania, Pragma, and Philautia to name a few. All of which Rumpelstiltskin had used in the past to get what he wanted. He had always been particularly fond of Agape...for mortals would stop at nothing to when they loved selflessly.

Lacey whispered her love to him in her sleep, she moaned it aloud in his arms, giggled it into his chest, and traced it into his skin. Her love was heady and consuming and intoxicating without the magic that accompanied it.

However, his son’s quiet confession of love was something wholly different but just as powerful. If he had been without magic, it would have warmed him as well as any enchantment or any jacket but as it was he had both and so the feeling was slightly overwhelming. There was still plenty of years of misunderstandings, decades of lies and deceit, and some issues that he knew would take another hundred years to fully resolve, but it was a start.

“I love you too son,” he said gruffly before jutting his chin towards the docks. “Should we go scare some fishes?”

Baelfire shook his head before pulling his knit cap free to pull it down low on his father’s curly hair. “If you insist on walking around in demon form, at least tell Lacey I tried to talk you out of it.”

“Your secret is safe with me,” Rumpelstiltskin said with a wink.

His son’s laugh echoed in his ears long after they rejoined Lacey back at Granny’s for dinner. While the rest of their time together was spent discussing old memories, hopes for the future and his attempts to convince Neal to try some Snapchat filters selfies, there was a quiet understanding between them.

As they walked back to the apartment, Lacey put her head on his shoulder and sighed happily.

“I’m glad you two talked,” she said quietly. It was her quiet way of apologizing for not apologizing for her interference. He put his arm around her, his hand resting on her hip as he pulled her closer to him as they neared Archie’s fence.

“Me too,” he whispered into her curls.

Overhead, the moon grew brighter and the stars twinkled as if just for them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WHAT DO YOU MEAN THERE'S ONLY FOUR MORE CHAPTERS!
> 
> Oh oh oh.
> 
> First of all, again hello and hi to everyone reading this. So happy to get so many wonderful reviews on this story as it comes to a close and I can't believe next chapter is the beginning of the end.
> 
> But what end will it be?


	72. Chapter 72

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Winter Solistice

Wednesday December 21st, 2016

The town of Storybrooke lay quiet in the early morning hours. Midnight passed and went as softly as the drop of a feather as the Winter Solstice creeped closer and closer.

It would be the shortest day of the year. 

It also very well could be the last.

“Lacey.”

She did not turn from the window. The pane was frosted slightly as the street lamps glowed below them. She sank bank into Rumpelstiltskin's chest though she did not turn from the window. The entire town lay beneath her, each house holding life and secrets she could only hope to protect even if she never knew them.

“Is it time?” she asked.

“Nearly,” Regina responded. The elder witch sat at the table where bottles and vials were stacked around her, sands and powders, liquids and gases swirling in test tubes and bottled by champagne corks. The soft green drew attention to the shadows under Regina’s eyes and the hollows of her cheeks.

The rest of the house was empty. No Ruby, no Archie, no Jefferson or Neal. They had protested of course, but a witch was difficult to argue against. In the end, they had agreed to go with the Nolans and the Bentons on a day trip to New York City, where an unexpected snowstorm had kept them trapped at Cruella’s.

Safe.

Lacey only wished she could have sent everyone away. Regina had refused to vacate the town, calling Lacey’s idea of a gas leak idiotic. The lists of people still missing or dead did not seem to haunt Regina. Lacey saw it every time she closed her eyes.

Monday and Tuesday had creeped by. Lacey had gone to work, picked up the phones, sent emails, handled her business and all the while, she watched the time tick away until the entire mess was over with. One way or another, after six this morning, her life would be forever changed. 

“I’m ready,” she whispered. She did not need to see Rumple’s face or hear what he had to say. They had spent the last two evenings curled up on the bed in the corner while Queenie hid in the bathroom. She had only emerged when they had grown quiet and still and proceeded to mewl loudly to remind them that she still existed.  
Neal had promised to take care of Queenie if something should happen. 

The familiar jumped up to the kitchen counter and head butted Lacey’s crossed arms. The odd feline with her mismatched coloring and her stunted tail purred a hello as she joined their watch on the still town.

Lacey’s right hand grasped Rumple’s. He gently kneaded her fingertips with his, pressing the pads of his talons to her own nails. She buried her other hand in Queenie’s fur to scratch the spot behind her cat’s left ear.

There was nothing remarkable about the town, no fog, no starry sky, just a grey cloudy early morning which would dawn late and set earlier than any other day this year.

And yet, this was a moment she would remember for the rest of her life. Be it two more hours or two hundred more years. This moment of quiet contemplation before the storm, wrapped in the arms of a lover she could never have dreamed up and stroking a cat that had helped her find her way when she had been truly lost. 

“Are you two just going to stand there all night or are you going to help?”

And then, there was Regina.

“You wanted to make the potions,” Lacey said as she peeled herself away from her roommates. “I’m the one doing all the heavy lifting.”

Regina rolled her eyes. “You’re summoning a demon you’ve summoned already. It’s hardly rocket science.”

True. They had the bones of Bozo’s ancestor and the dagger he had used to cut his own soul free from his mortal form. They simply lacked his blood. Easily gained with the correct spell, the right weapon and a small amount of luck. 

“Regina, anyone ever tell you that you’re a bitch?” Lacey grumbled as she sat down across the table. 

“Mrs. Lucas did yesterday as a matter of fact,” Regina replied. “She’s leading the Committee to Save the Christmas Parade.”

It was easy to forget it was almost Christmas. The whole town had been in an uproar the past few weeks since Regina had canceled the annual parade. It was something so trivial to Lacey and Regina, that even at work, they brushed off the people’s holiday fury, too busy trying to focus on more important things like town taxes and stopping ancient demons from destroying the town. 

Lacey nodded as she reached for the purple scales of a violet turned salamander. “She won’t do anything without the permits,” she assured Regina. “Unless every shop on Main Street signs a waiver-”

“They won’t have to. I gave them the permits last night,” Regina told her. “They’re holding it as soon as the sun goes down tonight.”

“You what?”

Whether it was because of the way the room went still or the quiet fury in Lacey’s voice, Regina looked up from her mortar. “What? If we survive this summoning, they can have their ridiculous parade. If we don’t, they’ll have more things to worry about than if Rudolph’s float works.”

“If something goes wrong-”

“Then, they’re all screwed anyways,” Regina interjected. “Hand me that vial.”

Lacey was more inclined to throw it at her, but settled for ignoring the request entirely to focus on her own project. Behind her, Rumple stayed at the window. He did not make a sound but his body was tense, alert and humming with anticipation. 

He was after all about to face the creature responsible for his own power, his own immortality and his own existence. There was a hatred between the two that Lacey couldn’t quite understand, a bond between creator and creation that had twisted and turned loathsome over the centuries. One born of jealousy, rage, and mistrust but more importantly, a hatred reserved for those who had gone past dreams of vengeance.

The clock on the stove read a quarter past five in the morning. The night sky showed no signs of lightening so Lacey continued to work silently besides Regina. They bottled spells, brewed potions, and stoppered death in all its forms.

“There,” Lacey finally said as she ran out of the last of the ingredients. “That’s everything.”

The table glowed with smokes and liquids, gases and stars, solids and gels. They had used some wine bottles toward the end, and the green glass glinted strangely as the golden chain reactions of dormant hexes swirled hazily through the murky depths.

The small apartment glowed. Every surface had been covered in some form of magic. Rumple had retired to the couch at some point where he tinkered curiously with some of Regina’s potions and Queenie had curled up in Lacey’s lap. Both were still wide awake and alert though they appeared relaxed.

As 5:40 appeared on the digital clock face, Regina nodded to her over their bounty. “Better get on with it then,” she said as she too stood up. Rumple did not move from his spot on the couch, though Queenie hopped up onto the table without disturbing a single bottle. 

With a lazy wave of her right hand, Lacey called the book from where it sat on the fireplace mantle. A trail of ash followed lazily behind it, until she caught both in her waiting hand. The ash stained her fingertips black and without pause, Regina reached over to stab a straight pin into Lacey’s thumb pad. 

After Lacey finished cursing, the elder witch picked the book off the floor and pressed it back into Lacey’s sooty, bloody grip. She whisked a finger under Lacey’s left eye, and when she drew it away, a single tear glistened softly.

“Element of surprise,” Regina said coolly as she pressed the tear into the blood and soot. 

“I could have just conjured my own blood and tears at significantly less pain,” Lacey said through her teeth. “You didn’t have to stab me.”

“Lacey.”

Rumple pointed to the clock as the sky outside began to grow navy, then grey, and finally hints of colors appeared in the stratosphere. The book hummed to life as the Winter Solstice dawned outside, and for the third and hopefully last time, Lacey French summoned a demon. 

The skin of her palms tingled, the hair on the back of her neck raised and a ghost danced across her grave. Then, there was nothing.

“Lacey?”

Lacey raised a hand for silence. “He’s here,” she replied after a moment. 

Regina had a rather large vodka bottle in her hand, which glowed red with a particularly nasty charm. She held it higher to illuminate the small studio. 

“Not here,” Lacey clarified as she moved to the window. “He pulled away when he crossed over.”

“Where would he go?” Regina demanded of Rumpelstiltskin.

“Most likely Midas’s manor,” Rumple replied. “It’s still empty.”

“Then, let’s go,” Lacey said. She grabbed as many bottles as she could and with a quick whisper shrank them all down to slip into her jacket pocket. Regina began to do the same but Rumple did not make a move to join them. “Rumple?”

“He’ll expect us to come,” he said to himself. “Otherwise he would have just crossed over on his own. He wouldn’t have waited for you to summon him forth.”

“He’s weak,” Regina pointed out. “He probably hoped we wouldn’t press the matter.”

Lacey shook her head. “No, Rumple’s right. He’s smarter than that.”

“You have the dagger, right?”

Lacey nodded and patted the small sheath strapped to her leg underneath her skirt. The blade remained wicked cold despite the warm of the room and her own body temperature. 

“And you have the bones?”

Rumple summoned forth one of the various vials filled with the crushed bone fragments of the last living descendent of the Old One. They had over twenty vials lingering in different hiding spots around the world, ready to be called forth at a moment’s notice.

“Then, we just need to stab the bastard, draw blood and say the words,” Regina finished with a withering look at the two of them. “Let’s get this over with before the town wakes up.”

\--

In the end, he was not at the manor. 

He was not at the toll bridge.

Or in the woods or at the docks.

They did not find him at Archie’s, or at the Mayor’s residence or even at Granny’s.

By the time all the shops opened on Main Street, the weak morning sun shone through the cloud cover. The trio was exhausted and on edge.

“He’s here,” Lacey seethed as she turned in circles outside Granny’s diner. “I can feel him.”

Rumple laid a hand on her shoulder. “He’s toying with us,” he said softly and Regina nodded wearily from where she leaned against the diner’s porch. “You two need sleep.”

“We just need coffee,” Lacey argued. 

Regina pushed away from the wall. She did not do anything as banal as yawn, but her eyes were lined and red and there were dark circles under her eyes that had not been there an hour ago. 

“We’ve used more magic jumping around town than was wise, and we stayed up all night preparing potions and spells,” she reminded her. “We keep this up and he’ll just have to show up and blow us over with a huff and a puff.”

Too tired to mock the nursery rhyme reference, Lacey scowled. “So, what? Take a nap and hope he doesn’t start to destroy the town in the meantime?”

“You two go get some rest, and I’ll keep an eye out,” Rumple said with a firm note in his voice. “I’ll alert you if he shows his face, and I can keep him occupied in the interim.”

“Goddamnit,” Lacey swore as she aimed a kick at a nearby rock. “What’s he going to do? Hide out until the Spring Equinox?”

“Rest,” Rumple repeated. “Neither of you are any use to me or this town at this rate.”

Regina nodded curtly. “The Mayor’s Residence is closest,” she said with a quick check down the road. It was the morning rush and a few people were starting to take notice of the Mayor standing outside Granny’s at the early hour. “Lacey, you can stay in one of the guest suites.”

She shook her head. “I’d rather be with Queenie.”

A soft meow of approval came from her feet. Queenie blinked up at her in the cloudy morning, a pleased feline look on her face as she twined about her ankles in greeting.

“Then, it’s settled,” Regina said. “Grab the cat and let’s go.”

\--

“Lacey.”

She stirred out of the piles of blankets and pillows to wrap her arms around his waist. Rumple sat perched on the edge of her bed, his hands combing through her tangled hair. The room was dark save the window where faint light still poured through the thin curtain. At her feet, Queenie twitched her nose against her shins but did not move from her own nest of fabric.

“Where is he?” she murmured as she tried to fight off the lingering claws of her dreams. They had been full of nightmares and hopes, shadows of realities that were too fantastic to be true and too cruel to be dismissed. 

“Still hiding,” Rumple told her as he helped her sit upright. “Regina’s been up for the past hour scrying for him, but hasn’t had any luck.”

One of her dream fragments grew bright for a moment. “What about the Coven? Or the Church?”

“We discussed this,” Rumple reminded her. “We aren’t going to involve them unless something goes wrong.”

Lacey sighed as she pulled at the pills on the blanket she had found in the closet. The tangles gave her something concrete to fix, and she began to pull at the little knots and beads harder than necessary. “He’s toying with us.”

“He is,” Rumple agreed. “We knew this wasn’t going to be easy.”

“Yea, but I at least thought we’d get to fight,” Lacey groaned. “Not go on a deranged hide and seek around Storybrooke.”

“Get dressed,” Rumple said with a press of his lips to the tips of her ear. “We have a little under an hour before sunset.”

\--

When they entered Regina’s office, the stark black and white was tinged with the colors of the setting sun. It was nearly a quarter to four and the sun had already begun to dip lower into the winter sky.

“Anything?” Lacey asked as she joined Regina at her desk. The scrying crystal swung over the map of Storybrooke but it did seem to be doing much of anything other than hanging in Regina’s grasp.

“No,” the other witch said through gritted teeth. “I had something at Gepetto’s but then it disappeared and reappeared across town at the docks. Just a minute ago, I had a fix on him at the Rabbit Hole but he was gone before I could even stop the pendulum swing.”

“He’s toying with us.”

Regina arched a brow. “How is jumping to random place to random place toying with you?”

Lacey ignored her. “Where else did he appear?”

“The lofts where Mary Margaret used to live, near Sprat’s, the woods up by the faerie ring-”

“All places we’ve been together,” Lacey said as she turned to Rumple. 

“What kind of message is that?” Regina demanded. She stood from the table, but the pendulum continued to hang in mid air. 

“He’s playing for time,” Lacey told her as she grabbed for her jacket. Queenie jumped up on the table to pat at the pendulum. “He wants us to chase him.”

“And we aren’t going to do that?” Rumple asked. 

Lacey grinned. “No, because he doesn’t know what we know.”

Regina looked lost. “And what is it that we know?”

“In two hours, there’s going to be a christmas parade.”

\--

The plan had been easy. 

Convincing Granny Lucas of it, not so much.

The widow crossed her arms and peered suspiciously at the trio. They stood at the Inn’s front door, effectively blocking her from leaving her own home to join the mass of people all heading down to the miraculously saved christmas parade.

“You want me to let her ride on the front float?” Granny repeated. 

“The three of us,” Lacey clarified for the third time. 

“Mayor Mills here is the reason we were not going to have a parade,” Granny reminded them. 

“I gave you the permits last night,” Regina shot back. 

“We would have had it with or without those permits,” Granny bristled. “This was a Storybrooke tradition long before you rode into town on your broomstick!”

Rumple chuckled behind her, and Lacey elbowed him gently. “Granny…”

“Oh, don’t Granny me, young lady,” Mrs. Lucas said as she turned her attention on Lacey. “Don’t think for a second I don’t know you have something going on lately. My own granddaughter barely talks to me anymore, disappears every month for nearly a week and now she tells me she’s moving away. You’re as much my child as that one, Lacey French, which means I know you just as well I know her, and there is something the two of you aren’t telling me. If you want to ride on that float, you tell me what’s going on this instant.”

“Oh, for god’s sake,” Regina muttered. “At this rate, it’ll be 2017.”

“Regina…” Rumple warned.

Regina ignored him. She took two steps up to Granny to glare down at her. “You want to know what she isn’t telling you? Fine. Your precious granddaughter is a werewolf. Lacey and I are witches, and this guy here is a demonic entity. He was created by the original demon who, as it just so happens, is bent on destroying this entire town tonight in his quest to tear the mortal realm apart to rule this and all other realms in a bloody sway. We are attempting to stop all that by riding at the front of a goddamn Christmas Parade like a bunch of moronic buffoons.”

Granny blinked.

Lacey hurried to explain. “What Regina meant was-”

“A werewolf?”

Lacey’s words died on her lips. 

“Regrettably, yes,” Rumple said softly as he gently tugged Lacey too the side so he could speak directly to Granny Lucas. “She was bitten last Halloween, but you suspected that, didn’t you, Madam Lucas?”

To Lacey’s surprise, Ruby’s grandmother gave a short nod. 

“Granny?” Lacey mumbled in disbelief.

“Don’t look at me like I’ve grown a second head, dear,” she said with a snort. “I grew up in this town. I know the myths and the legends about faeries in the woods and the sirens in the sea. Plus, I know how to google.” Lacey wanted to fish her phone out and call Ruby on the spot but Granny fixed her with another direct look. “Let’s see it then,” she demanded. “Some magic.”

All three of them lifted their hands up in unison and a burst of green and red sparks emanated into the night sky. A few people on the sidewalks clapped for the display, a few taking photos of what they assumed were bottle rockets as they hurried on to the parade route.  
Granny just nodded. “Well, then,” she said as she pushed past the three of them. “Let’s get on with it then.”

\--

With Granny Lucas on their side, they had no problems getting onto the head of the parade float. It was covered in ivy and mistletoe, Storybrooke spelled out in poinsetta leaves on the side and white icicles dripping down over the sides to the ground so it looked like it was floating on light itself. With its three different levels, it towered over most of the buildings along Main Street. 

With the help of a suggestment elixir, the original float driver agreed to help on a different float. With magic at the helm, their float was on of the first out into the streets and was greeted with excited exclamations of holiday cheer. 

“Wave!” Lacey said through gritted teeth to both her companions. Regina slipped into politician mode easily enough but Rumple scanned the crowds, too intent on his prey to pay attention to the kids cheering and waving at him in his Santa Claus outfit.

“Were the outfits really necessary?” Lacey said in aside to Regina. 

The Mayor, still in her usual pantsuit, bared her teeth in a smile as she continued to wave to the crowd below. “Probably not, but if he dies in a Santa Claus outfit, it’ll be a hell of a story.”

“No one is dying,” Lacey said firmly. She tugged at her own elf costume, the bell at the end of her cap jingling dementedly. “Don’t think I’m voting for you next year though.”

If the town was surprised to see the very Mayor that had canceled the parade in the first place leading the floats, they were too good natured to care. Familiar faces peered up at them, while children waved happily as parents held them up on their shoulders. 

“There.”

Rumple pointed at the clock tower as they passed it, and sure enough, there, illuminated by the dull glow, was a shadow. 

“Here,” Regina said and Lacey gasped her hand in her right and Rumple’s in the left. “We’ll need a distraction.”

Rumple smiled and as if that was the signal, the top of their float exploded free and a rein of candy burst forth like a geyser into the night. The crowd’s boomed its approval as the float came to a stop and the entire crowd pressed forward to gather the chocolates and sweets as they continued to pelt down from the sky.

Regina used the pandemonium expertly. One second, they swayed on a still float, and the next, the three of them stood in the empty clock tower above the library before the demon they had chased all day. 

The Old One chuckled. “Whose idea was that little performance?”

“Needs must,” Lacey said as she drew the dagger free from beneath her elf’s skirt. “Got your attention, didn’t it?”

The Old One looked to where Rumple stood in his beard and red suit. He had dropped Gold’s face and his demonic face was grotesque in the clock’s feeble light. “It is honestly a sight I do not think I will forget in the foreseeable future.”

“You have a very short future,” Regina said as she appeared just behind him. With a lighting quick move, she smashed a bottle into the side of his face before disappearing again into the shadows.

The Old One did not make a noise of anger or pain, but stood with blood dripping down his face. It pooled into the neck of his robe and stained the hair around his ear but he did not make a move to so much as wipe it off.

Lacey made a move towards him but Rumple snagged her free hand. “Wait!” 

Another soft chuckle filled the silence. “I have spent the last fortnight preparing for death,” the demon murmured. “I wondered how I should meet it...or should run from it...and in the end...I think there is nothing as amusing as one’s own hubris.”’

Regina reappeared at their side, and though she held a spell at the ready in her hand and a bottle of some noxious potion in the other, there was no need. 

Rumple stepped forward and with no hesitation, he drew a finger through the blood that had begun to drip on the floor. Lacey’s breath caught in her throat, but the Old One did not make a move to strike Rumple even though the back of his neck was exposed and his back open to attack.

“Here,” Rumple said quietly and he swiped the blood over the flat of the blade. As Regina and Lacey kept an eye on the Old One, he sprinkled the bone fragments to stick to the blood on the blade. Finally, he stepped away.

“Do you remember what I said to you?” the Old One asked him before Lacey could begin the words. “When you came to me a coward and a fool? A lost mortal doomed to obscurity even in those primal times?”

“‘I can make you a king’,” Rumple repeated. “‘You will walk through fire and blood, death and agony and you will laugh and not know death’.”

“Until I do.”

Lacey stilled.

“What does that mean?”

“It means,” the Old One said where he stood immobile. “That my death heralds his own. My blood is in his veins. Killing me kills him.”

“He’s lying,” Regina said. “Do it now. He’s buying time.”

“Rumple?”

His eyes were locked with the Old One’s, a silent conversation between the two ancient demons. “He’s bluffing.”

Lacey lowered the blade. “But-!”

The Old One struck. It was a small spell, so slight that she had not even noticed it being cast. If Regina had not had her own spell called forth, it would have hit Lacey before she could have even drawn breath to respond. 

“Do it!” Regina exclaimed as the shadows erupted to life around them. Dark claws wrapped around Lacey’s throat and arms, encircling her limbs in a tight embrace as it picked her up off the floor to hover in midair. Regina was caught too, though she had an arm free and was using it to hurl whatever she could get her hands on down to the floor below.

Rumple and the Old One were locked in a battle of wills.They flickered in and out of the light, appearing next to each other and then across the room. Lacey struggled in vain to catch her breath, to start the first words, but the shadowy figures pressed their way into her mouth and stilled her tongue.

“Lacey!” Regina yelled as they rose into the rafters. “Say the spell!”

The dagger was heavy in her hand, and though the shadows did not seem able to touch it directly or wrest it from her, Bozo’s words had worked all too well.

Regina knew it too. “He’ll be fine!” she exclaimed, hissing as something corporeal scratched long rows across her face. “Say the spell or we are all dead!”

The shadows clutching her sensed her resolve. As she began to wiggle and struggle for control over her own body, they dropped her. It was a long fall down, long in the time it takes to know one is about to die, but not long enough to gather the breath to speak the words. Luckily, magic did not always need words.

She slashed the hand holding the dagger across her body, and a gust of wind erupted from beneath her so when she hit the floor, she had slowed down enough to only be mildly winded. A agonizing pain at her hip indicated she had stabbed herself in her fall, but she only had eyes for the two demons across the room.

Rumple had his talons locked around the Old One’s throat, prying him backwards into the floor as shadows wailed and tossed around them in a whirlpool of darkness. Rumple was bloody now too. Bozo’s claws were scarlet with their mixed blood.

Lacey wanted to say something. Words of love came to mind, goodbyes, and even apologies clamored to be said but instead she said the only words she could.

It was instantly different from the Summer Solstice. This time it was not power and magic that flooded her senses, but an eerie stillness. The words flowed from her mouth as easily as words of love and praise, as calmly as words of acceptance and compassion and as pure as a prayer.

The shadows faded away. There was no light, no wind, just a serenity that extended from every center in her body and spiralled out into the world around her.

Regina’s centers opened in response, and the shadows exploded as if the sun had risen inside each to them. The entire clock tower shone, not with a light, but with a power that seemed to illuminate from the inside out. The elder witch appeared at her side as quietly as the spring rain, though she did not touch her.

As the magic touched Rumple, he staggered backwards away from his creator and pressed himself along the wall. He only relaxed when he caught her eye, his muscles sagging in relief as the magic touched the wounds along his body and crept into the cracks of his soul. 

When the magic touched the Old One, he only laughed.

“Zoso,” Lacey said quietly as the spell breathed through her. “Your time is done.”

“My life may be spent,” he agreed as he pulled himself to a standing position. “However, it has touched countless others. My creations are still out there, my legacy lives on without me.”

“Your legacy stands in the light beside you,” Lacey told him. 

“The Dark One is dead,” Zoso spat. “This creature is a lap dog.”

“This creature is a man,” Rumplestiltskin said firmly, “and you had nothing to do with it.”

The magic flared bright and when it abated, the Old One was gone.

Regina only barely caught Lacey as she collapsed. The pain in her hip flared bright and then the lights overhead swam in her vision as darkness crept in. Rumple’s voice was distorted and far away, and though she could hear him and Regina, she let herself sink into the depths of her own mind and slipped away from them into unconsciousness. 

Outside, as the parade slowly wound away, the crowd below began to sing O Holy Night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *makes strangled noises*
> 
> Bozo is dead. Defeated, erased, vanquished, and our babies are all still alive. (Injured and exhausted but ALIVE)
> 
> Next chapter, we have the meeting with the Coven. 
> 
> So, I'm going to leave this here, this huge chapter, this beginning of the end, and I am going to hug you all while you try and think of how you feel and I hope to hear from you because this has been such an adventure to go on with you all and here we stand three chapters from the end and I can't believe it.
> 
> (can you tell I'm a WiP author? I'm freaking out over here that it's almost done)


	73. Chapter 73

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Coven Meeting

December 23rd, 2016

It was shaping up to be a very odd Christmas.

“Stop pushing!” Regina snapped as both Jefferson and Ruby attempted to stand closer to Lacey. Rumple and Neal were on either side of her and neither moved so much as a muscle as the three witches stared down at them.

In the back of the Church, Victor sat in the farthest pew. His suit was slightly torn and his hair was ruffled. Due to his disclination to attend the Coven meeting, Reul herself had collected the zombie. She stood in the corner by the altar looking decidedly smug.

“Is this everyone?” Ingrid demanded of Lacey. She surveyed the group behind her. Mary Margaret and David clutched Emma where they stood by the front pews, Granny Lucas looking unruffled besides them. Archie was pale but composed though his knuckles were white where he gripped his umbrella. 

“It is,” Lacey agreed. There had been no need for Cruella to attend. Jefferson and Neal had been there when she had woken up earlier that morning, still groggy from her magical overdose and sore from her unintentional stab wound.

Ingrid nodded. “Do you know why you are here?” she demanded of the humans. 

Mary Margaret handed Emma to her husband before she stepped forward. “We do.”

“You are aware that human knowledge of our world is a death sentence?” Ursula asked. 

“As parents of True Love’s Get, I believe they are excluded from that particularity,” Regina said. Her voice echoed in the small cathedral, her tone brooking no argument. “It will be necessary for them to know of our world since they will be raising the child.”

“We’ll see about that,” Reul said from her corner.

“Enough,” Ingrid replied. Her voice was soft but there was no mistaking the annoyance in it. “In every other known occurrence, True Love’s Get has been taken in by the Coven to be raised as a witch.”

The tension between the Coven and the Church representative was palpable. Lacey shot a look at Rumple who nodded slightly. It seemed while they had been busy destroying a demon, the two parties here had been at their own war. It was no secret that Reul had hoped to raise Emma as another witch in the Church but it seemed the Coven had their own ideas. 

“No other case had a witch as a grandmother,” Neal pointed out. “Or a godmother.”

“I am not a ‘grandmother’,” Regina protested. “Next one of you who calls me anything of the kind will regret it.”

“Are you threatening us, Mayor Mills?” Reul asked.

“Course not,” Regina replied smoothly. “Simply stating my intentions.”

“The child will do best with us,” Elle said softly from her seat. “She will become powerful, confident in her abilities and knowledgeable in our ways.” Her sightless eyes turned to Lacey. “Tell us, Belle French, what would you have given to say the same?”

The day outside was cloudy though unseasonably warm for the season. The novices were finishing the final decorations for the Christmas Eve mass the next day, and from time to time, brief choruses of carols could be heard. It brought back memories of happier Christmases.

“If you are asking if I would have liked to learn to be a witch from my mother, the answer is yes.”

“There,” Ursula said decidedly. “Even she agrees-”

“But my mother died,” Lacey continued firmly. “She died without explaining to me who she was, who I was, and I spent the next decade of my life in the dark. I was lost and no one came to teach me.”

Ingrid’s face remained stoic. “You managed.”

Lacey laughed. “I managed?” she repeated. “I summoned demons forth through an accidental temper tantrum and an ouija board. I wandered through life using magic to mask my own inadequacies, my losses, and my insecurities.”

“Is that is our fault?” Ursula demanded.

Lacey shook her head. “If you take Emma from her parents, you are ripping her away from the two people who love her most in this world. You are sentencing her to a life of feeling alone, of being a tool or a savior of our kind when she should grow up a normal child who just so happens to do magic.” Mary Margaret and David were oddly silent but Lacey did not dare turn around to look at them. “Let her grow up as Emma Nolan.”

Jefferson nodded so exuberantly his hat toppled from his head. “The future is always misleading,” he reminded the Seer. “You see what you want to see.”

“I see many things, jumper,” Elle said. “Your bias is as deep as mine.”

He nodded as a large, goofy smile bloomed across his face. “Without question.”

Mary Margaret cleared her throat. “With all due respect,” she said, “I grew up with a witch. I am aware of many of the subtleties of your order.”

“I’ll remind the Coven a mortal child should never have learned of a witch in the first place,” Reul added.

“I’ll remind you, Reul Ghorm, that you betrayed the order to join the Church in a unveiled grab for power,” Regina shot back without hesitation. “Besides, you obviously have never had children. They get into everything.”

David chuckled but it was cut off abruptly. From the sound of it, someone had just elbowed him hard. 

Ingrid stared just over Lacey’s head at the small family and then finally she gave a small nod. “Then, in the matter of True Love’s Get, the Coven rules in favor of the child staying with her birth family. The Nolans will be named Friends of the Coven and will be allowed knowledge of our kind. However…”

“No talking about witchcraft,” David said solemnly. “Got it.”

Beside her, Rumple cracked a small grin but hid it before Lacey got a better look at it. 

“Now, for the werewolf.”

Ruby stood up a little straighter as her grandmother marched up to her side. Granny neatly pushed Jefferson behind her as she glared up at the witches. “Where exactly does a werewolf stand in this-this court thing?” she demanded.

“It is deemed a cursed creature,” Elle replied, “that should be put down as soon before they even have a chance to transform.”

Granny snorted. “Then, why is she still alive? She’s been a werewolf for a good year now.”

“Interesting question,” Reul said darkly. “While we are at it, let’s discuss the zombie in attendance at well.”

“If you cannot hold your tongue, Mother Superior,” Ursula warned, “you will be removed.”

“This is a matter for the Laws of Three,” Reul said as she stepped forward. Now, there was an odd triangle of power. Lacey stood in the middle of the Coven and the Church with a demon at her back. “The Church made it clear that any abominations would be put down for the safety of our flock.”

“Halfbreeds were once considered abominations as well,” Neal reminded them. 

Ingrid nodded. “While they have rights, they are still not recognized by this court.”

“An oversight,” Jefferson huffed, “that will soon be fixed.”

“Another threat!” Reul said as she gestured at where Jefferson stood.

“No! No!’ Jefferson said hurriedly as he whipped his hat off to cover his heart. “Simply stating a fact!”

Elle nodded. “He’s right,” she said as she gazed just to the left of the jumper. “Our ways are changing, sisters.”

Reul crossed her arms in challenge. “They have not changed yet.”

“Watch yourself, Reul Ghorm,” Ursula warned. “While the court may not have a halfbreed representative, this Coven do not view them as subordinates or abominations.”

“Demons have long considered them equals,” Rumpelstiltskin said firmly. 

Reul’s eyes glittered dangerously. “We are not discussing halfbreeds. We are discussing werewolves and zombies. Creatures born from demonic hatred and used under their thrall to spawn armies.”

“Armies?” Victor laughed from the back of the church. “Lady, that asshole may have managed to ruin our lives forever, but he never managed to get us under thrall.” He kicked his feet up onto the pew in front of him as he reclined backwards, his arms folded behind his head. “I may eat brains now, but I run my own successful business.”

“The zombie has a point,” Rumple said. “The Old One’s quest for domination never wavered from the beginning. Mortals now are not the same as they were when we first walked this earth.”

Ursula turned her attention to where Ruby stood silently. “What do you have to say, Ms. Lucas?”

Ruby thought about it for a moment. “I change once a month,” she said finally. “I disappear into myself, but I am still myself but in a primal way. I rage, I crave, I want. When I wake up, it’s like a distant dream...but it’s still me.”

“The question is not if you turn into a different creature,” Ingrid said calmly. “The zombie is proof enough that a nature does have to change despite these curses. It is a question of safety. If you transform without proper care-”

Granny scoffed. “A woman gets her period every month,” she pointed out. “Most of us know our bodies well enough to expect it. From what I can tell, a werewolf isn’t too different.”

Lacey had to cover her mouth with her hand to prevent anyone from seeing her smile. Ruby’s cheeks were pink but she was managing to hold it together. 

“I have a safe room,” Archie piped up as he stepped forward. “Gold here designed it to be werewolf proof.”

“My human name,” Rumple clarified for the Coven. 

“Yet, Ms. Lucas has plans to travel,” Reul said with a vicious grin. “Isn’t that right?”

“Unacceptable,” Ingrid said and for the first time in this conversation, she looked unsettled. “If we allow you to live, you would be under watch for the remainder of your days as would the zombie.”

“But-!”

“I’ll watch her.”

Everyone turned to Granny.

“Mrs. Lucas,” Rumple said softly. “You have been a trove of surprises this week but with respect, you have not seen a werewolf’s transformation.”

Granny raised her chin. “I raised her after her mother left,” she said. “A preteen dropped on my doorstep, abandoned, angry, lashing out at everyone.” She turned to her granddaughter. “She turned out fine. I can handle every part of my beloved girl including some wild wolfish part. Just try and stop me.”

To Lacey’s surprise, Elle laughed. “Well, it is a day of surprises,” she announced. “However, Mrs. Lucas I do not think that will be necessary.”

“Elle?” her sisters asked in unison.

“Ursula, is not your dear friend, Cruella De Ville a half breed with the ability to speak with animals?”

Neal groaned.

“She is also a famed globe trotter with buckets of money who is bored out of her skull,” Ursula said with a nod. “I believe you have something there, Elle.”

“So, we entrust a werewolf to a halfbreed with a history of questionable activity?” Ingrid asked. “Honestly, Elle.”

“I’ll go with them.”

Lacey and Rumple both turned as one to where Neal stood. He shrugged. “Auntie listens to me, plus it’s been awhile since I saw the world.”

Ruby hurried forward to throw her arms around him and he just barely caught her.

“This is ludicrous!” Reul snapped. “Next you’ll be letting the zombie roam free.”

“Oh, I’ll stay here, thank you,” Victor said. “Funerals are good business. I have free access to brains and I make my own hours. Plus, I’ve never been one for travel.”

“I’ll watch the zombie,” Granny said as she shot him a distrustful look. “If he puts a bite out of line, I’ll make sure it’s his last.”

Lacey felt rather lightheaded. In one swoop, her best friend had been spared death, granted her wish to see the world, and her grandmother had just volunteered to watch over Ruby’s ex.

“Agreed,” Rumple declared. “Ladies?”

The trio nodded which left Reul visibly fuming. “Is this how this is to work now?” she demanded with a hiss. “The witch’s pet agrees with everything the Coven declares?”

“You’re welcome to get another demon appointed to the court,” Rumple said with a grin. “Or perhaps start the process to appoint a halfbreed? Two against two may be a challenge but I for one always enjoy a healthy debate.”

To Lacey’s surprise, Reul’s face melted into a cool grin. “What about the good doctor?”

The Coven turned as one to gaze at Archie who went from pale to white as a sheet. “M-me?”

“Master Hopper has been instrumental-”

“He saved my life!”

“You can trust, Archie-”

“Over my dead body,” Lacey added to the din of voices as one they surrounded him. 

Ursula sent a spark of fire into the air, and everyone fell silent as the light fizzled and spent itself. “Now,” she said calmly. “We are all familiar with the law. The Nolans have been named Friends, Mrs. Lucas here has been entitled a watcher, though we will still need to discuss our rules with her as she will fall under a very vague category of our order. Mr. Hopper here does not fall under any protective guidelines.”

“Like hell he doesn’t,” Lacey growled. “He’s our friend.”

Ingrid sighed. “A friend is not enough to save him. I’m afraid I have to rule with the Church on this one.” Ursula and Elle nodded in agreement. 

“You’ll go through us first,” Regina said curtly. At Archie’s strangle noise of disbelief, she rolled her eyes. “Dr. Hopper is under the protection of the Storybrooke Coven.”

“The Law says-”

“If I may?” Reul interrupted neatly.

Elle made an interesting humming noise. “Ah.”

“Ah?” Ingrid grimaced. “What does that mean, Elle?”

“It means,” Reul said politely. “I am not calling for Mr. Hopper’s death. Everyone else in this room has gained an ally today. Why not the Church?”

“Um,” Archie said faintly. 

“Mr. Hopper, you are a licensed psychiatrist who through no fault of your own has been entrapped in worlds beyond your wildest dreams. You aided a witch through trying times, befriended a demon, harbored a werewolf, protected a halfbreed and still kept your sanity intact. How could the Church ignore these good deeds?”

Lacey’s fingers grew itchy as her magic pooled at her fingertips. Rumple took her left hand in his and squeezed it softly. 

“There is a simple way to avoid death,” Reul continued. “Join the Church.”

“No,” Lacey said emphatically. It was echoed by Ruby and the Nolans. 

“Become a priest?” Archie said faintly. 

Neal sighed in relief and Lacey turned on him. “You knew?”

He nodded, casting a quick look to where Archie was still processing this. “In the future...in the one at the Church...I saw Archie getting ready...he was...in a priest’s robe. I thought…” His eyes turned to Ruby whose eyes fluttered close as the realization hit her. 

Archie did not turn to look at Ruby at all. He stood stock still. “What would my role entail?”

“You would simply be a guide for those troubled souls with powers, a shoulder to lean on, an ear to listen. Someone to confess one’s sins to that a mortal priest may not understand, someone to go into the darkest corners of our world without fear.”

Lacey would be willing to debate the without fear part, but to her surprise Archie did not immediately refuse. 

“Would I get to stay in my own home?”

Reul nodded. “You would go to the Vatican for training, but you would be based in Storybrooke. I have been called to another parish where my services are needed, and Storybrooke as it so happens will still be a hotbed of our kind. It could use a man of your skills and your history.”

“Archie,” Lacey whispered as she put her hand on his shoulder. “You don’t have to do this.”

He smiled tightly. “Actually, I think I do.”

Rumple remained silent as he watched them. “Master Hopper, this is a strange offer but...most likely the best you will receive all things considered. I am...sorry for my role in causing this.”

Archie’s face broke into a sad smile. “You enjoyed it,” he told the demon. 

“A bit,” Rumple agreed with his own grin. “You were most amusing to torment.”

“Archie,” Ruby said softly but he ignored her. 

“I agree,” he said to Reul. “I’ll take the cloth with those agreements. I stay in Storybrooke in my own house, I grow old, and I spend the rest of my life protecting and serving my friends.”

“Agreed,” Reul said. “If the others agree?”

The Coven and Rumple made it unanimous. Archie did not sag backwards, or close his eyes, but stood just a little straighter as he looked about the cathedral in interest. Granny steered Ruby to the other side of the pews, as the werewolf’s eyes began to tear up. 

“Which leaves us with the last of our agenda,” Ursula said. “The matter of the witch and the demon’s union.”

“Buck up,” Jefferson whispered in Lacey’s ear. “They wouldn’t have let him sit on the court decisions if they were going to kill you both.”

“Thank you, Jefferson,” Lacey sighed. “That’s very helpful.”

“Is it?” he asked in surprise. “Your tone suggests otherwise.”

“Over the past week, we have been in talks with the Church and various demonic entities on what to do with the pair of you,” Ursula said frankly.

“I looked into the future and saw some very interesting things,” Elle added. “Challenges you will face, losses and gains that are both defining and crippling…”

“I do not want to know my future,” Lacey replied. “I want to live the rest of my life as a sister of the Coven with this man at my side.”

“He is no man,” Ursula said curtly. “He is a demon.”

“Is he?” Lacey asked them. “He loves and shares love with a witch. He possesses my magic freely, with no sacrifice on my part. He is as part of me as my magic. In all my readings, no demon has that ability.”

Ingrid smiled. “That is what we agreed upon as well.”

Lacey blinked. “Wait, what?”

“The magical community as a whole has heard of the union between a witch and a demon, and there has already been a handful attempts by different parties to recreate such a coupling. More will undoubtedly continue.”

“You two will spend your time on this realm and the others making sure that does not happen,” Ursula told them. “The Church will let you know of any instances that needs your attention and the Dark One will still serve on this court as the Demonic Representative.”

Rumpelstiltskin nodded. 

“Your brethren have learned of the defeat of the Old One,” Ingrid warned him. “As his...successor of sorts, you will have a target on your back.”

“Let them try,” Rumple said with a slow smile.

Ingrid turned to Regina. “This leaves you in charge of the child’s teaching, is that acceptable?”

Regina cut a quick look at Lacey before nodding. 

“Then, this court is adjourned. Mrs. Lucas and Mayor Mills, a word on your futures in this town before we go?”

Lacey turned to Rumple in confusion. “That was it?”

He pressed a kiss to her hands which were trembling slightly. “You destroyed the original demon himself, love,” he whispered as hands all descended onto their shoulders as their friends gather close. “What could they do but make sure we were firmly on their side?”

In the distance, Archie stood talking with Reul, his face downcast. Granny and Regina stood upon the altar now, nodding as the Coven explained what they expected out of Storybrooke while the door to the Church swung closed behind Victor.

Around them, Neal, Jefferson, Ruby, Mary Margaret and David all jostled to congratulate them in relief. Lacey barely knew what was happening in the whirlwind until a heavy weight landed in her arms and brought her back to herself.

Bright green eyes stared up at Lacey from above chubby cheeks. Emma’s small hand reached up to touch Lacey’s chin in greeting before the child bounced up in her arms to reach higher.

“Don’t look now,” Ruby laughed, “but you’re holding a baby, Lacey.”

And she actually enjoyed it. Lacey smiled back down at Emma who broke into a storm of giggles at the sight and waved her arms joyously.

When it was all said and done and she looked back on that day, that moment was the one that stood out the most.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't even find the words to say to you guys.
> 
> Thanks for everyone who reviewed this story every chapter of the way. You made me sit down and write, you inspired me, you motivated me. Thanks to everyone who sent in a prompt, you made this story what it was. Without you, it would be nothing like the world you have visited.
> 
> We have two more chapters but they will simply be my goodbye gifts to you. 
> 
> Next time, it's Christmas in Storybrooke.


	74. Chapter 74

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Christmas in Storybrooke

December 25th, 2016

When the inhabitants of Storybrooke woke up on Christmas morning, it was snowing.

Adults blinked in confusion as they skimmed the weather apps on their phones which had called for sunny skies. Children screamed in delight, torn between opening gifts or barreling out into the winter wonderland.

In the midst of this, Lacey’s phone dinged with a text from the Mayor.

Just because the Coven and Reul left town, it does not mean you get to change the weather to fit your mood.

Lacey typed a Merry Christmas back, added an emoji for good measure before sinking back into the arms of her lover on the couch. He nuzzled her neck which was conveniently bared by her oversized sweater. “Told you she’d notice,” he remarked.

Lacey tilted her head to give him better access as she wiggled her hips further into the cushions. The television had various Christmas movies playing quietly, though neither one of them were paying much attention. 

“Hey,” she whispered as he pressed a lingering kiss to her collarbone. “I love you.”

He muttered a response into her hair though it was muffled by her giggle as his searching hands found the waistband of her underwear. 

They had politely declined all the invitations from their friends to join them for the holidays. Neal had returned to New York to start packing up his things for the penultimate world tour he, Cruella and Ruby had planned with a promise to be back for Lacey’s birthday.

This Christmas would be just the two of them. Her very own idea of heaven. 

“What did you get me?” Rumple said as he nudged her chin with his nose. His hair glowed in the firelight with his face illuminated in blues from the television screen. Lacey couldn’t help but steal a kiss before answering.

This resulted in a guttural growl of approval which ended with Lacey on her back on the couch, a very affectionate demon laying on top of her and doing very wicked things with his talons against her inner thighs.

“Wait!” she gasped as his fingers grew daring. “Present first!”

“Who says?” he complained though the corners of his mouth twitched upwards against the underside of her left breast.

“Santa Clause,” Lacey declared. Luckily, she did not have to get up to fetch his gift. Queenie yowled in protest as she summoned his present out of the hiding spot above the mantle. The dangling ribbons and mismatched wrapping paper proved tempting enough to rouse the cat from her pillow and soon the familiar had joined them on the couch.

“Off,” Rumple ordered but Queenie simply patted at the still floating present with a curious purr. “That’s mine!” he yelped as the cat grew bolder and attempted to knock the gift out of the air. He sat up to snatch it from the cat’s claws only to earn himself a deeply disapproving meow.

“Yours is over there,” Lacey told her, nodding towards the badly wrapped cat tower just outside the bathroom. It was hideous and took up half the studio but Lacey hadn’t been able to help it. They would be traveling soon, and while Queenie would enjoy exploring, it would be a long time before they all returned home.

Queenie slunk off to inspect her gift after Rumple removed her from the couch so he could sit back and unwrap his treasure. His face lit up with unsuppressed glee as he unveiled a complete box set of Happy Endings.

“Whole series,” Lacey said proudly as his eyes frantically scanned the back cover. “All ten seasons.”

“But there’s only eight,” he said with a frown as he flipped it back over.

Lacey shrugged. “I had Jefferson pick it up for me.”

His eyes grew bright as his smile broadened. He used a talon to rip through the shrink wrap and unfold the box set out across the coffee table, murmuring to himself in excitement as he poured over each individual season’s box.

Jefferson had protested at first but he finally capitulated when Lacey reminded him that after everything they had been through, a simple gift from the future was hardly going to be an issue. 

“Hey,” Lacey laughed as she kicked her feet into his lap. “I’m still here you know.”

He didn’t even look away. “Shouldn’t have given this to me then,” he murmured. “I’ve got to call David. He’s never going to believe this.”

Lacey pressed her feet suggestively against his inner thigh and though he did not look up, his right hand curled around her left ankle possessively. 

With a smug smile, Lacey gently pushed him backwards until his head rested on the couch’s arm. He kept the DVD case locked in his grip as he continued to peruse the episode synopsis for the upcoming season but his attention was divided.

Lacey climbed over him but before she could bend to kiss him, he flicked his index finger and to her delight, her hips shot forward to straddle his face as her back collapsed against his chest. 

“Oh, is one of those days?” she asked playfully but his response was cut off as he buried his face into the crux of her thighs. The smooth skin of his jaw whispered against the thin skin of her inner thigh as he inhaled sharply.

“Extended director’s commentary,” he mumbled appreciatively into her skin as he began to softly nudge her legs further apart with his head. “Over ten hours of extras…”

Lacey’s breath grew heavy. “So...you like it?”

“Very much,” he replied though it was obvious he was no longer talking about his gift. With a twist of her wrist, Lacey summoned the DVDs out of his grasp. Rumple quickly retaliated by wrapping both hands around her legs with a diabolical chuckle. “Now, you know I don’t like it when people take my things,” he murmured against her. 

He hooked a finger into the fabric of her underwear to pull it to the side. Lacey shivered at the rush of cool air and the sensation of his talon passing over her exposed skin. Without her prompting, he bent his head to the task at hand and within seconds, Lacey had her hands curled in fists against his legs as she tried to remember how to breathe normally.

He took his time. He traced patterns into her skin with his tongue as his fingers slowly trailed across her hips and legs. He pressed heated kisses underneath her knee while he massaged her ass with appreciative growls.

Lacey had never owned much in the way of Christmas decorations so there was no tree glowing softly in the background as she moaned and thrashed on top of her lover, no reindeer or snowmen to watch the proceedings or any Christmas lights to set the mood. Yet, this coupling felt different than the acrobatic sex they had performed upon return home from the Coven meeting or the animalistic fucks they had enjoyed in the past.

It was gentler, slower, and more reverent. 

His lips closed around her clit. He sank two fingers deep inside her to hit just the right spot to make her buckle. Her knees drew up as she used the couch arm for leverage, grinding down against him as he continued to indulge himself in one of their favorite pastimes.

In an attempt to even the score, Lacey fumbled beneath her to stroke him through his pants but his grip tightened on her legs in a soft reprimand. She sank back against him as she let herself relax into his ministrations.

He hummed in approval against her and Lacey did not bother to hold back her moan as the vibrations traveled up her spine. He released his hold on her legs to push beneath her sweater and when he cupped her breasts in either hand, she nearly came right there.

“Rumple,” she sighed as she tried to angle her hips to better guide him. “Not that I’m complaining but is this supposed to be my present?”

He nipped at her as he pumped his fingers slowly in and out of her as he let his thumb massage her ass so lightly she may have just been imagining it. He was warm and solid beneath her as she spread out on top of him. Their bodies rose and fell together as he worshipped beneath her and when the tension grew too strong, Lacey reached a hand down between her own thighs in a desperate attempt to alleviate the pressure before she broke down.

“Yes,” he murmured in approval as her fingers started to circle faster and faster over her clit. “Just like that, sweetheart.”

Damn him, his voice always made her weak in the knees but when he lowered it like that it burned through her like wildfire. Her fingers grew faster as she plucked at her own body and his hands tightened in response. He dipped his tongue inside her to add fuel to the fire and she came with a whimper and a scream as she broke apart over him.

Before the waves of her orgasm could abate, he vanished from beneath her. As her head hit the couch cushions and her legs collapsed over the edge of the couch, he reappeared above her.

“Please,” she managed as she reached out to pull him down against her. There was no need to explain further as he was already pushing himself deep inside her as the last waves of her orgasm faded away.

They both made a hissing noise at the twin sensation. Lacey’s head fell back as he leaned over her, one knee bracing himself against the couch as the other planted itself on the floor for better leverage. Lacey wrapped her hands in the back of his shirt as she arched her back to meet his desperate thrusts.

His eyes were half closed as he sought his own release but Lacey had her own ideas. With a twist of her hips, she pulled away from him until she leaned up against the other end of the couch. Her ass raised temptingly in the air.

He scooted forward and she yelped only slightly in painful pleasure as his claws bit into the curve of her hip. He pressed relentlessly against her as he sank deeper into her and began to pump recklessly. His balls slapped against her clit in a maddening rhythm that made her sink down until her cheek pressed against her arms where they lay motionless on the couch arm.

Sensing this, Rumple increased his speed as he bent his head to bury himself in her neck. His hands came around to cup her chest through her sweater as he pulled her flush against him. They kneeled on the couch as he slowly thrust up into her and she ground down against him.

Neither of them spoke as they found their rhythm. Lacey let her eyes fall closed at sensation after sensation rushed through her and when he finally stilled against her, she continued on her own until she felt him spend himself inside her as the soft, needy, desperately relieved groan tickled the curve of her ear. 

He sank backwards into the couch and by the time Lacey had cleaned them with a particularly helpful cleansing spell, he had his christmas present back in his hand.

“Hey!” Lacey protested as she collapse on top of him. 

“What?” he asked grumpily though the twinkling of his eye gave him away. “I’m enjoying my Christmas present.”

Lacey snuggled her head under his chin as she wrapped her arms around him. His heartbeat thumped reassuringly in her ear and his free hand draped over her back to hold her closer. Fingers played with the ends of her hair as she began to doze off against him.

Until something every heavy landed on her back.

“Ow!” she exclaimed. She opened an eye to glare at him but he was innocently perusing the DVD booklet to notice. With a grumble about ungrateful men, Lacey managed to sit upright to collect the offending object.

It was a box wrapped in golden paper. It had a simple bow stuck to it like an afterthought. No tape marred the paper, though it was the only magical thing about the parcel. Lacey made a noise of interest as she flicked one corner free and then tore the entire paper to shreds.

Queenie appeared on the back of the couch at the sound of rending paper and Lacey threw a large section of the paper over top of her. This earned her a startled hiss as the cat dropped back to the floor and retreated to the safety of her new tower.

He cleared his throat. “I wasn’t sure...if you’d like it.”

Lacey’s breath had caught her in throat. Her hands shook slightly as she traced a large leather photo album reverently. It was simple aged leather like so much of Rumple’s otherworldly garb but this was a soft brown that matched the color of her hair down to the soft highlights that shone in the light.

When she opened it slowly, her mother’s photo stared back at her. It was the oldest one of the collection Lacey had found last Christmas in her father’s attic but it showed her mother smirking at the ancient camera as if she had some inside joke with the viewer.

“It’s never ending,” he explained. “There’s always blank pages at the back for new photos without getting any larger. I thought it would be nice...for you to have all your photos of your heritage in one place and where...where you could add pictures from our travels in the future.”

Lacey did not find the words as she turned the pages slowly. She watched as the photographs grew more modern before finally she gazed down at a polaroid of a toddler standing in a swimming pool in a backyard as her mother knelt beside her in the grass.

“Do you not like it?” he asked quietly when she still did not respond.

Lacey turned to him with tears in her eyes. “Are you kidding?” she managed. “I love it.”

He didn’t look convinced. “But you’re crying?”

She swatted him half heartedly before she climbed into his lap and wrapped her arms around his neck. The album pressed between them as she tightened her arms around him and squeezed him tightly.

“Merry Christmas, Lacey French,” he murmured as he pressed a kiss to her exposed shoulder. “I love you.”

“Merry Christmas, Rumpelstiltskin,” she whispered as she breathed in the scent of him. She had never once enjoyed a Christmas like this, not even when her mother had been alive so she let herself relish it. Luckily, there would be countless more. Despite all the odds, they had made it. To here, to now, to this small intimate moment on a couch in her studio apartment before the rest of their lives began.

She wouldn’t have traded it for the world.

“I love you too,” she replied as the snow continued to fall outside.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Like I wouldn't give you guys one more smuttastic chapter. I'm not an monster.
> 
>  
> 
> The last chapter of the House Guest will be Lacey's Birthday.


	75. Chapter 75

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lacey's Birthday
> 
> It feels fitting to end this story on Friday the 13th for obvious reasons.

December 27th, 2016

Lacey’s thirty-fifth birthday served as a celebration of her life, her victories and her friends. 

Granny has closed early to host the proceedings which would also serve as a going away party of sorts for Lacey as well as Ruby. The whole back wall of the diner had crystal vials hung against the wallpaper with blue and white flowers stemming out to transform the wall into a makeshift garden. 

At the moment, Lacey sat in a booth near the large twin windows as she listened to the rise and fall of the din. She was taking a moment to let her head clear and rest her feet. Neal slid into the opposite side of the booth and handed her a glass of champagne still fizzing merrily.

“Happy Birthday,” he toasted as he gently clinked his glass against her’s. “Here’s too many more.”

They drank to that before lapsing back into a comfortable silence as they scanned the room. Granny had Leroy’s whole trivia team cornered into helping in the kitchen and occasionally, one or two would appear in the window to look longingly out at the open bar. Leroy himself often corralled them back to work.

In the far corner, Cruella gave a high pitched laugh at something Archie had said, but her smile didn't quite reach her face. She had been cooing over Pongo all evening and the dog eyed her suspiciously where he sat under their table. “Auntie is thrilled to have an excuse to go traveling again.”

Lacey glanced over at him. “And you?”

His eyes moved to where Mary Margaret stood. Eric was bouncing Emma in his arms as Ariel made fishy faces at the infant who giggled in delight at her antics. “I think the world has changed a lot since the last time I saw it,” he said. “It will be refreshing to see it through someone else’s eyes.”

“Talking about me?” Ruby grinned as she nudged Lacey to scoot over. Ruby’s eyes sparkled and her cheeks were flushed. She plopped down three more glasses of champagne with a mischievous wink. “To the future!” 

“How many have you had?” Neal asked though he quickly finished his own to grasp her offering. Lacey followed suit.

“Not keeping track,” Ruby informed him. “It’s a party. Don’t be such a stick in the mud.”

He raised an eyebrow and both women giggled in tandem. “What?” he demanded self consciously.

“It’s just...when you do that,” Ruby managed through breathless giggles. “You look just like your father!”

Neal looked horrified as he looked towards Lacey. She could only nod in agreement which elicited a groan from Neal and more laughter from Ruby. 

“Not demon Gold,” Ruby finally clarified when she could breath again. “The good looking one.”

“I do not,” he said with a stern glare at Lacey, “want to hear about my father being attractive from either of you. Ever.”

“Deal,” Lacey said before Ruby could protest. 

“A very merry unbirthday to you two!” In the booth behind them, Jefferson swung his legs around so he sat just over Neal’s right shoulder. His hat twirled like a top in his fingers as he grinned down at all of them. 

“Get off the back of that booth!” Granny hollered from across the room. 

Jefferson slunk down to sit beside Neal as he cast wounded glances in the matriarch's direction. “She doesn’t care for me much,” he sighed as he put his elbows on the table to cradle his head. 

“She just takes a bit to come around,” Ruby said reassuringly. They all watched as Granny swatted Victor to get his feet off a seat. The zombie reluctantly obliged though he made a face at her retreating back. 

“Perhaps I’ll offer my services in the kitchen,” Jefferson mused but they all quickly exclaimed for him to stay. It was not hard to picture the chaos Jefferson might get into in the kitchen full of mortals. Jefferson turned his odd stare to Lacey. “Did he like his gift?”

Lacey nodded with a rueful grin. “He went over to David’s yesterday to watch the next season.”

Jefferson beamed. “How delightful.”

“If you like when your boyfriend disappears to his boyfriend’s all day,” Lacey grumbled with a nod towards where the two of them were huddled up by the bar. Rumple had agreed to wear his mortal form for the event. He was dapper in a three piece navy suit. Lacey looked forward to peeling it off him but for now she was content to look.

Neal stiffened. “Uh, I’m going to go...get some fresh air,” he said. He scrambled out of the booth just as Mary Margaret appeared at the table holding a fussing Emma. 

“Did he just run away from me?” she asked incredulously. 

Elbowing a quietly giggling Lacey and kicking at Jefferson before he spilled the beans, Lacey gestured to the now vacant seat. “Probably something he ate,” she assured Mary Margaret. 

Emma yawned as she curled up closer to her mother’s chest. Mary Margaret patted the downy golden curls absently. “Should probably have gotten a sitter,” she remarked with a look over her shoulder at David. 

“Give her to me,” Ruby offered. Mary Margaret leaned past Lacey to deposit the child into Ruby’s arms. Emma complained for a moment but sleep slowly won her back into serenity. “Oh, I’m going to miss her,” Ruby sighed as she brushed Emma’s curls off her forehead.

“Anytime you want to come back,” Jefferson offered, “just say the word!”

“Don’t say that too loud,” Ruby said as she glanced around for her grandmother. “Otherwise, Granny will expect me every night for dinner.” 

“How was the binge watching?” Lacey asked.

Mary Margaret rolled her eyes. “We didn’t get anything done all day. I had to make Gold swear not to bring it back by until tomorrow or we wouldn’t have gotten anything done.”

“This place looks amazing,” Lacey told her friend. “You guys did a great job.”

“Ariel did the back wall,” Mary Margaret said with a shrug. “I just helped Ruby with the shopping.”

“You did the banners,” Ruby corrected as she gestured towards the one hanging over the bar. 

“Masterfully done,” Jefferson added as he placed his hat back on his head. 

Across the room, Cruella let out another high pitched laugh. Archie looked over his shoulder nervously. “Should someone rescue Archie?” Mary Margaret asked.

Jefferson nodded grimly. “It would be my honor,” he said before he disappeared from the table without even standing.

The trio looked towards where Ariel and Eric stood but they were too busy talking with Gepetto to notice. The pizza shop owner winked knowingly over Ariel’s shoulder.  
Moments later, Archie staggered over to them to drop down besides Mary Margaret. “That woman is insane,” he mumbled as Pongo licked happily at Lacey’s hands. Ruby grew quiet as she shifted her attention to the child in her arms.

“Good boy,” Lacey enthused as she scratched at the place just behind his ears. Queenie would probably be jealous when she smelled Pongo on Lacey but they’d worry about later.

“Might want to keep Cruella away from Pongo,” Mary Margaret said. “Her fur collection is very monotone.”

Archie’s face went pale as his grip tightened on Pongo’s leash. 

“Relax,” Lacey laughed. “I won’t let Cruella turn Pongo into a coat.”

He nodded shakily. 

“How’s...everything?” Mary Margaret asked him.

He blinked. “Well… I attended the Christmas mass at the church the other day and...I found it to be rather...comforting.”

Archie had not been raised in any religion. He had once told Lacey he preferred science to faith but that had been a long time ago before witches and demons and werewolves had shown up on his doorstep.

“When do you leave for the seminary?” Lacey asked. Besides her, Ruby grew still as she strained to listen. Reul had failed to mention the process to becoming a priest required an additional four years of school. 

“Middle of January,” he replied. “Enough time to start to shut down my practice, get my affairs in order, rent the house out and learn some latin.”

“Who’s taking care of Pongo?”

Archie faltered.. “Oh...I..I hadn’t really decided...”

“Maybe we could?” Mary Margaret offered. “Emma’s so fond of him and we have that whole house with the yard.”

“He’d like that,” Archie said warmly. “Would David mind?”

“Mind what?” her husband asked as he appeared beside them. Rumple leaned down to deposit a kiss to Lacey’s upturned face and when they broke apart the whole table was grinning at them. Save Archie who was busy trying to wrangle Pongo from jumping all over David.

“Taking Pongo in while Archie is at the seminary,” Mary Margaret said. Her smile was infectious and Pongo barked happily as if he too approved of this plan.

“Course we will!” David said warmly. He clasped Archie’s shoulder. “We’ll all miss you, man.”

Flustered, Archie tried to look away but Lacey leaned over to capture his hand. “We’re going to visit,” Lacey told him. “As much as we can.”

“I will too,” Ruby said softly. “If...if you don’t mind.”

Archie struggled to swallow and after a moment was only able to produce a short nod. 

“A demon visiting the Vatican seminary,” Rumple mused. “How entertaining.”

“Maybe wait a couple of months,” Archie hurried to add. “Just until...I get used to it.”

Before they could tease him further, the lights dimmed. A soft singing began in the kitchen and then, a massive three layered cake was wheeled out with sparklers fizzing merrily on every tier. The table around her erupted into the chorus of Happy Birthday. Rumple helped her stand up and pushed her gently to the center of the room where Leroy wheeled the cake.

As the song died away, Lacey caught Regina’s eye. With a wink, she politely blew ever so softly towards the closest sparkler as her forefinger twisted behind her back. A gust of wind blew out every sparkler in unison as the entire party clapped and cheered.

After cutting the first slice of cake, Lacey retreated over to sit besides Regina. “Thanks for coming,” she said as she slid the mayor a small slice of cake. “I thought you had plans with Sidney?”

“I moved them to tomorrow,” Regina said coolly as she sipped her red wine. “It’s quite a fete.”

“It is,” Lacey agreed as she looked out amongst her many friends. “So, if I can ask, what’s the plan for Storybrooke?”

“The Coven made it clear they’ll be checking in from time to time,” Regina sighed. “However, there is no law about how many years a mayor can serve.”

Lacey smiled to herself. “Are you going to hire someone to fill my role?”

Regina cast a sideways glance at her. “No. Why?”

Lacey shrugged. “I just know someone looking for a job...she has some experience in magical affairs.”

“Who?”

Lacey nodded to the woman who had just slid into the diner unnoticed. Her mousy brown hair was loose around her shoulders as she looked nervously around the room. Her clothes were a little too small on her and her coat was horribly out of fashion.

“That?” Regina scoffed. “That’s not a prospective employee. That’s a charity case.”

Astrid caught Lacey’s eye and lifted a hand in a tentative greeting. Lacey waved her over though she had to catch Regina’s arm to keep her from moving away. “Just talk to her,” Lacey whispered as Astrid hurried up to them.

Without pause, the newcomer threw her arms around Lacey in a tight hug. “Happy Birthday!” Astrid sang before pulling away. “Sorry I’m late...I wasn’t sure...what to wear.”

“You should have kept guessing.”

“Ignore her,” Lacey told Astrid. “She’s still learning how to make smalltalk. How did it go?”

Astrid blinked rapidly but she managed to put a grimace of a smile on her face. “The sisters were all very sad,” she told her. “But I...it is was the right decision.”

“This is Mayor Mills,” Lacey said with a nod towards Regina. “The one I was telling you about.”

“Oh, yes,” Astrid said with a nod. “I know all about you, Mayor Mills. The Mother Superior was very...vocal about your...accomplishments.”

“You’re a nun?” Regina scoffed.

“Was,” Lacey hurried to correct. “She left the order.”

“You what?”

Leroy stood behind them. He seemed to have forgotten he held a plate of cake which was starting a slow slide towards the floor. Astrid hurried to grab it from him and the shy smile she gave him was answered by Leroy’s look of awed disbelief.

“I didn’t agree with what...the Church’s teachings,” Astrid said carefully. “And I...I couldn’t help but hope”

“Hope what?” Leroy prompted.

“Well...I…I...hoped maybe we might...”

“Come on, Leroy,” Lacey groaned “Are you going to make her spell it out?”

Other had begun to notice the latecomer and the party grew quiet.

“Kiss her!” Jefferson called out. 

This statement was picked by various other parties and within moments, the entire party was chanting. Astrid’s cheeks were red and her eyes huge but she did not look away from Leroy for an instant.

“Not with you clowns watching,” Leroy grumbled but he grabbed Astrid’s hand and pulled her into the kitchen. Moments later, his trivia team came spilling out, some with soapy plates still in hand.

“Presents!” Granny decided as the crowd all burst into cheers at Leroy and Astrid’s departure. “Lacey!”

She groaned. “I thought we weren’t doing presents,” she complained as she joined Granny in the center of the room.

“Of course we’re doing presents!” Ariel bubbled as she pushed the first of what looked like many into Lacey’s hands. “It’s your thirty-fifth birthday!”

Lacey did not bother to deny it. She would be having a lot of thirty-fifth birthday parties as the years went on. Might as well get used to it.

Ariel took over handing her each present while jotting down each gift. “It’s learned all about how to do this at my bridal shower,” she said proudly. Ariel’s wedding was fast approaching and Lacey made a mental note to remember to let the Coven know that come hell or high water, she would be in Storybrooke the first weekend in May.

The Nolans gave her a travel book on Europe with emphasis on myths and fairy tale regions such as the Black Forest and the Alps. “Just in case,” David said with a wink.

Ariel and Eric had gotten her a cork map for her to mark all the countries she travelled. “And we want to see pictures,” Eric reminded her with a grin. “I promised to teach Gold how to Instagram before you leave.”

Rumple raised a glass in approval across the room and Lacey gestured for him to join her. He sat down just as she opened Ruby’s gift of a canvas pet tote. It was the perfect size for a feline and the coloring matched Queenie’s odd fur. One side was black and the other a calico color.

“Figured she’d want to travel in style,” Ruby said. Lacey had to get up to hug her friend at this moment, knowing full well that neither Ruby nor Queenie were overly fond of each other, the gift meant all the more.

Granny gave her a leather passport cover. Lacey did not have the heart to tell her that she would not need a passport too often but assured Granny she wouldn’t lose it. Customs, as Granny told her seriously, was a very tricky place.

Leroy did not return when she opened his gift, a leather flask with her initials on it and some numbers just below.

“Latitude and longitude of Storybrooke,” Rumple told her as he peered at it. 

Gepetto gave her a recipe book from Italy and when she cracked it open, a small handwritten recipe fell out into her lap. 

“For when you miss home,” the elderly man said from where he stood beside Archie. It was a pizza recipe...and Lacey had to swat Rumple’s hands away before she replaced it carefully back in the book for later.

Cruella...Cruella gave her a box of chocolates which looked to be about fifty years old. 

“I didn’t have time to go shopping,” she explained with a shrug of her shoulders.

“Open mine,” Neal suggested as he handed a large wrapped parcel to Ariel.

It was heavier than the rest had been but by the time Lacey had gotten one corner unwrapped, the words Nikon stared up at her. 

“You got me a camera?” 

He nodded, pleased. “Dad said he was getting you a photo album for Christmas, so…”

Granny had Rumple take the camera away from Lacey after a few minutes, though the entire crowd was interested to see it. 

“It’s no big deal,” Neal complained as Lacey returned to hug him for the second time. “It’s just a camera.”

“It’s a Nikon500,” Ruby said from where she was holding it. “That’s like saying a Corvette is just a car.”

“Me next, me next!” Jefferson said as he barreled up to her. He nearly knocked Ariel over as he thrust a plain unwrapped box into Lacey’s face. It was a small tea set. A delicate teapot with blue and white vines with four identical tea cups all nestled in among various tea leaves bundled together with different colored ribbons.

“Form all over the world,” he whispered to her with a wink. “It’s for when you come back home in between trips.”

The faint memory of the first time they met came to her mind as she took his hand. “Jefferson, I love it. Thank you. ”

He smiled back down at her before pressing a quick kiss to her forehead. 

The next gift was a black and white satchel. When Lacey peered inside, there was a small slim book that hummed of magic. When she reached down to flip it open, she scanned over a few travel spells that looked particularly useful. 

“Don’t hug me,” Regina warned from her place at the bar.

Lacey nodded as she slipped the bag down by her feet to pursue further later. “Thank you, Madame Mayor.”

“Only two more,” Ariel said as she handed her another one. “This one is from Archie.”

“I wasn’t sure what to get you,” he said awkwardly as he pushed his glasses back up on the bridge of his nose. “But...I thought it would be useful.”

He had gotten her a kindle. It was already full of books on travel, geography and history as well as a few of her favorite books. 

“Archie, this is too much,” Lacey protested as she scanned the countless books he had downloaded for her. Neal, a centuries old immortal, had money enough to indulge in a expensive camera. 

“It’s not,” he protested. “You don’t read enough. I wanted to make sure you didn’t have any excuses.”

Beside her, Rumple smiled. “Quite right, Master Hopper,” he said quietly. “It is a thoughtful gift.”

Lacey did not get up to hug Archie as she knew it would just embarrass him further. She made a mental note to get him something equally as thoughtful for his next adventure. The idea of Archie becoming Father Hopper still sounded foreign to her but he seemed to be growing into it already.

Rumple nudged her softly as Ariel handed her the last present. It was black and matte with a gold ribbon wrapped around it. “From me,” he said as Ariel stood up to join Eric. 

“You already got me a Christmas present,” she reminded him.

“So?”

She kissed him for that simple sentiment before gently undoing the ribbons.

Inside was another box. This was navy blue like the twilight sky with a white ribbon. 

With a reproving look at him, she tore it apart only to find another box. 

“Gold,” she groaned as she held up this silver one with a bronze bow stuck jauntily on top.

“Come on,” Ruby called out. “We’re getting old here.”

“If it’s another box,” Lacey warned him before she popped the top off to reveal...another box.

This one was wooden with no joints or hinges. Lacey shook it but there was no sound from within. “Cute,” she said as she turned to Rumple. “You got me a piece of wood?”

Except he was not there. He was kneeling in front of her now as he gently pried the box loose from her numb fingers, he winked. With a twist of his pinkie, so slight only she saw it, the box blossomed from a plain box into a flower carved of wood and nestled among the petals...

“Now, sweetheart,” he murmured as he lifted it back up to her. “What do you think?”

The diamond ring sparkled as if lit from within but Lacey barely saw it.

She was too busy staring into the eyes of the man she loved.

Towards the future, and all the possibilities it held.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First, let me take a deep breath.
> 
> Okay. I am composed (enough) to say what I need to say.
> 
> This story is dedicated, gifted, in honor of one of the most amazing people in this fandom. Prissygirl has been this story's champion and it's originator. She was the first one to send in the prompt to start it all and has been single handily responsible for at least fifteen of the other prompts. Her ideas and her encouragement were paramount to this story's success and creativity. Small prompts like "a stray cat adopts DoDo" or "Lacey finds out Ruby & Archie have a secret" spiraled into a story about witches and werewolves. For every moment of inspiration, this woman was behind the scenes with pompoms. She is not only a gracious friend and reader but a talented author in her own right so her love for this story shines through all the chapters.
> 
> To everyone who has prompted a chapter from on here or on tumblr, you helped this story become real. You helped shape it, you inspired and you challenged and you were here every step of the way with encouraging comments and reblogs and kudos and bookmarks and thank you. This was a fun project that became a real story and it's because of you.
> 
> For Nia and Linds and UltimateFan, who made artwork for this story because it spoke to them, thank you. I cried everytime I saw my vision realized in graphic form and I saved and hoarded the images in a proud mama dragon kind of way and gazed upon them every chance I got.
> 
> To those of you who emailed me, challenged me, spoke to me about these characters, thank you. I loved this story and I loved that you loved it too. From deweymay's long paragraphs on every chapter, to Ultimate's 10/10s, to RosexKnight to ctdg to Oriberry to all the others who left me love. I'm not going to say I'll miss you because I'll see you in other stories and in other worlds but thank you for going on this journey with me.
> 
> Okay, I'm crying now and I'm going to go curl up and relish in the fact that this story is complete.
> 
> And yes, in case you are wondering, they do live happily ever after.

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry, no beta so it's a bit rough...


End file.
